Autobiographically, Yours
by DarkDaisies
Summary: An unlikely duo had come together in the strangest of places until they were torn apart. Will they ever find their way back to each other? Will they find the happiness they so desperately crave? Or will they be torn apart by the violence of a madman? Warnings for triggers inside, Rated M for adult themes, language, sexual situations
1. Twenty - H

**Disclaimer: All recognised characters from this chapter unto the end belong to JK Rowling &amp; her delightful magical world.**

**Warning: This fic contains dark themes and as a responsible adult I feel it is my duty to inform you of such. Therefore proceed with caution if themes such as but not limited to: self mutilation (cutting), suicidal tendencies and domestic violence cause personal upset as that is not my wish.**

**Author's Note: I can't promise regular updates as this particular fic is close to my heart for many reasons which I'm not willing to delve into currently. Lets simply say it is a difficult write and updates will probably be sporadic at best.**

**As always - while I appreciate those who have taken the time to read, I have had less than stellar experiences with despicable guest reviews, therefore guest reviews shall be deleted. And if you feel a scathing review is necessary, by all means send me a PM and we can discuss your opinions, though I make no guarantee your opinions shall alter mine.**

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Chapter 1 – Twenty - H

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They say everyone has a defining moment in their lives. That one moment that allows them to see exactly who they are or even who they should become. I'm not sure I believe such things, not anymore. I can't recall a single defining moment. No, I recall numerous moments that have led me to exactly where I am. I can't say I'm happy here, but how many people are actually happy with their lives? It would be easy to say my friends, my family had these delightful lives and everything was sunshine and daisies, but I wouldn't want to lie. I'd been lying for entirely too long.

I kept trying to forget the day it really began. It had been easy throughout my schooling. It was easy to be the brilliant one, the intelligent one, the bright one, the forgotten one, the ignored one and I had grown used to that persona. It wasn't difficult to be that girl. She didn't need much, not really, just her books and a little companionship. The companionship left a lot to be desired, but it could have been worse. It could always be worse. At least I learned that lesson.

I'd love to able to say it was the war that changed everything; that changed me, but like I said, I wouldn't want to lie. It was afterwards. I had been going so hard for so long, I didn't know how to take care of myself, not anymore. It wasn't something I had to dwell upon. It was my job to care for those around me and in that fashion I flourished. When the tumultuousness was over, I couldn't breathe. I couldn't function. They were fine, of course they were. I had practically handed them the necessary tools in order to thrive. They smiled, they laughed, they danced, and they moved on. I was the only one left in the dust. If you asked them, they'd blame me. It was my fault I didn't adjust. It was my fault I couldn't let go. It was my fault I was floundering because they were doing just fine. There had to be something wrong with me.

I believed them. Of course I did, how could I not? They were all I had really. It's not as if I could speak to my parents about such things. They wouldn't understand. Sure, they'd try and I would appreciate their efforts but at the end of the day, I'd feel empty. I was alone and I realised, I had always been alone.

The first day, the first time, the first defining moment, I hadn't intended to cut as deeply as I had. It was curiosity more than anything. I was slicing veggies and I missed. It wasn't painful and I found myself just watching the dark red blood drip from the tip of my finger into the sink basin. It was mesmerising. I couldn't tear my eyes away and I didn't want too. When it finally began to sting, I felt alive. It was terrifying, of course it was terrifying yet it was also empowering. This was something I could control after spiraling for so long. I was taking me back. I wasn't looking toward outside sources to help me define myself. I was finding me, in the drips into the basin.

I needed something; I just didn't know what it was yet. I knew I was fragile, of course I was fragile. I think I always was in some way, shape or form, but no one ever noticed. It's hard to sense fragility when the face presented is set in stubborn stone. I understand that and I don't blame them. I don't blame anyone. It wasn't long after that first accidental slice that I discovered pills. They took away the pain and let me float away. It was calm and peaceful. I didn't have to be me or even rise to the expectation of me. I stopped visiting my faux friends. I stopped checking the post. I was determinedly swirling the drain of my own volition.

My mum found me, I suppose. I don't remember and I never wished to remember. The stupid bitch of a nurse had the gall to tell my mum I was ashamed when I woke up crying. I was thankful that mum was smarter than her. I never felt like my mum stood up for me, encouraged me or even really loved me when I was a child. In that moment, she was a roaring lioness daring the wolf to insult her young. I vaguely remember her daring the nurse to step foot into my room again before drifting off to sleep. I remember smiling and feeling warm. It made me wonder if that's what love felt like, if that was what it was supposed to feel like.

I wound up in a facility. It's not that it's especially surprising. I could have disappeared from the facility quite easily, but I had nothing to return too. What did it matter if I spent a few weeks amongst some fucked up individuals. It was obvious I was fucked up too. We could all be fucked up together. I didn't even care anymore. I spent most of my time sleeping and they hated that. The staff or whatever they called themselves wanted me to bare my soul to a bunch of strangers who didn't give a shit about me. It's not as if I could tell them who I really was. I'd never see the outside of the facility if I talked about that. Its taboo, which made me taboo. I'm the thing that shouldn't exist. I'm the anomaly they couldn't truly understand. It had always been that way; I just didn't want to admit it.

I couldn't believe it when I saw him walk through the door. I tried to make myself as small as possible. I didn't waste my time wondering why he was there. It didn't matter to me. I didn't care. In the end, he didn't even notice my presence. He stared at the floor and said as much as I did, which was nothing. They might be able to force me into their little meetings, but they couldn't force me to speak. I wasn't delusional. I knew I needed help but I also knew I couldn't receive it there. At least I stopped popping pills and carving into my skin. That's something I suppose.

I lost track of the days, but eventually I earned garden privileges. It really was lovely to be able to sit outside underneath the trees and smell the rain in the air. I spent every afternoon beneath that tree, watching the clouds float on by. It was peaceful and I needed a reprieve from the constant whisperings which had taken residence inside my head.

I remember the day he joined me. He didn't say a word, he simply laid beside me in the cool grass and I didn't mind.

He had to know who I was. It's not as if I had changed that much. I was the same boring, uninteresting, unattractive girl I had always been. He hadn't changed much either. His hair was just as long, just as blonde and just as perfect. I'd never admit I thought it was perfect, but in comparison to mine, how could it be any different? There was a bit of sadness around his eyes, but the colour was the same. It wasn't the sort of colour you could forget. His eyes were the sky on a stormy day. The kind of day where the horizon is the darkest of blues but the sky is a muddled sort of gray. I would be embarrassed to admit I had studied his eyes so thoroughly, but it's not as if he noticed and I didn't expect him too. I wasn't anyone of importance to him, I never had been.

"I know who you are." He said one day. His voice wasn't biting and angry. Frankly, I had expected that. His face wasn't contorted in a sneer of hatred either and I found that surprising as well. I studied his profile carefully before answering him. What could I say really?

"Ten points for Slytherin." Not my most brilliant moment, I'll admit that, but it was the least facetious thing I could think to say. He laughed. I'd never heard him laugh before, not really. I'd seen him laugh, but I'd never actually heard it before then. It was a beautiful sound. Not because it was his laughter, but because it was laughter in general and I hadn't heard it in so long, I had almost forgotten what it sounded like.

"Why aren't you with your visitors? It is visiting day." I had almost forgotten he was beside me when he broke the silence. I had closed my eyes, listening to the wind blow through the leaves and pretend I was alright. I had been pretending for so long I didn't know how to stop and I wasn't sure I wanted to. Pretending was safe and at this point it was easy.

"I haven't any." I felt him move closer to me. I didn't open my eyes and I didn't bolt. There was no place to go anyway. What did it matter if I held a civil conversation with a school enemy? We weren't in school anymore and no one here was going to give a shit.

"I find it hard to believe the Idiot Brigade wouldn't come visit their favourite member." I ignored the trace of bitterness in his words and shrugged against the blades of grass.

"I haven't talked to them since I went back for seventh year." That wasn't exactly true, but it wasn't an outright lie either.

Harry and Ron had sent a few owls which I returned unopened. It was Ginny; she was whom I clung too. She knew where I was and respected me enough to adhere to my pleadings to stay away. She knew it was to protect myself. She knew I didn't want her git of a brother nor his inconsiderate best friend. I knew she had married Harry and I was happy for her, truly I was. He was her peaceful place. I didn't have a peaceful place. She understood what they didn't and I loved her for it.

I must have fallen asleep not long after our incredibly short conversation. When I opened my eyes it was black as pitch outside and I was covered in a blanket. I didn't want to read more into the gesture than was necessary but I appreciated it. I also wondered why the staff didn't come looking for me, but I supposed he took care of that as well.

The next few weeks passed much in the same way. I had grown used to the company. I didn't resent it and he seemed to need something from me. Perhaps we needed something from each other. He didn't receive visitors either. I wondered about his mum more than his father, but I didn't want to pry. He, on the other hand, had no such qualms.

"Favourite colour?" Today's episode was laced with questions. It was like he was trying to sift through my soul to get to the little bits of me. I didn't mind as much as I should have.

"Earth tones. I adore earth tones."

"That's bloody boring."

"Yes, I'm aware. I've heard that my entire life."

"I didn't mean anything by it. I prefer bright colours myself. Cerulean blues, grass greens, blood reds and sunshine yellows."

"And yet you always wear black. Shame, really. The lighter colours would look quite nice on you." I bit my tongue. I hadn't meant to inadvertently compliment him. It was just an observation.

"What are you going to do when they finally let you out of here?" I breathed a sigh of relief when he hadn't made one of his customary snide remarks.

"I'm leaving. I'm going to change my entire bloody life. What about you then?"

"Me?" The shock was evident. I had never really asked anything of him, but there's a first time for everything; or so I've heard. "I'll be going home of course. As if I've really got a choice in the matter. My mum expects me home."

"I suppose my mum expects me home as well and I'll have to disappoint her." I snorted with a bit of derision. Sure, my mum would want me home and she'd watch over me every moment and it wouldn't take long before I was exactly where I started. No, I needed to do something for me. Like I said, there's a first time for everything.

We were sitting side by side like most every day, except this time the rough bark of the wide tree braced our backs. I noticed how close he was sitting. Normally there was practically an arm's length between us, but not that day. Our shoulders brushed and if I moved the fingers of my left hand, I could touch his wrist. I didn't move, yet I stared at his long fingers threading through the blades of grass.

"Clouds are like constellations." He said suddenly. I frowned, trying to piece together his train of thought. "They move across the sky and they're unique." He nodded repeatedly as if trying to convince himself.

"You have a thing for constellations." It was easy to tease him, but he didn't rise to the occasion like he did when we were children.

"Of course I do. My name is a constellation; my entire family…except my mother is named for…"

"I know. Do you have favourites?" A piece of my hair blew across his face. I expected some sort of scathing remark about the bushiness or the filthiness or something. He surprised me once more by simply twirling the piece around his finger and giving me a half smile. It was a beautiful smile.

"Favourite constellations? Well, that would be silly wouldn't it? I'll tell you this much, I've spent many hours contemplating which constellations are worthy for my future children's names." His finger brushed my cheek when he twirled the curl too tightly, but neither of us commented on it. Strange as it was, it was familiar in its awkwardness.

"Oh, do tell." I laughed then and it felt foreign. It was a strange sensation, though not unwelcome.

"Scorpius of course. That's at the top of the list. Leo…" He stopped when I snorted and I almost felt bad. Almost. "What's wrong with Leo?"

"Nothing, nothing at all, though I suppose you **are** aware that the brightest star of Leo is Regulus which was one of your cousins or some relative."

"Don't ruin it for me, Hermione." He'd never said my name before. I didn't hate it. I didn't love it, but I definitely didn't hate it. His fingertip lightly touched my jaw and I didn't hate that either.

"You're assuming all your children will be boys."

"No, I'd quite like to have a daughter. Carina. She'd be spunky and of course she'd have my hair but she'd have her mother's eyes." He tugged on my curl, his breath tickling my cheek.

"You've really thought about it." I could feel him inching closer, his hair tickling my forehead, but I didn't turn my head. I didn't look at him. I was afraid of what I would see, in his eyes and mine.

"Yes, yes I have. I'm…I'm going to kiss you now." I wasn't expecting that. How could I? I turned to him with a gasp on my lips and before I could blink, his lips were on mine. I don't know why he did it. We'd barely touched before that moment.

I want to be able to say that I pushed him away angrily and shouted obscenities at him, but fact is I didn't. I'd never been kissed before. I had kissed before, but I hadn't **been** kissed, if you can follow. I had kissed Viktor and it was disappointing. I had kissed Ron, just once, after the final battle. I hadn't meant to kiss his lips, I was aiming for his cheek but he turned to say something and it just happened. We were both horrified, which is sort of amusing I suppose. This was the first kiss in which I was the recipient and I liked it.

I lost track of the moments beneath the willow tree. I was lost in him and for a little while, I didn't hate myself. The boy that all the girls desperately sought and mooned over, was kissing me. His soft, plump lips were on mine. His teeth were pulling on my lip. His tongue was swirling with mine and the little pants? Those were mine as well. I didn't care about anything or anyone. I was lost in our moment. I didn't even care when his trembling hand slipped under my blouse and stroked my breast.

No one had ever desired me. They tolerated me, but desire, no that was reserved for other girls, never for me. I would have given him the world if he'd asked for it. Not that the world was mine to give, but I would have found a way. It was lunacy in its finest and I welcomed it. I knew it never had a chance of leading anywhere, but that didn't matter, not really. Eventually I would have to learn to let go, to stop planning every single moment of my life. I had rejected such theories, but right then, in that moment, I thought…what was the harm? The worst that could happen is we leave this place together, yet alone before moving on with our lives. It would be lovely to make a beautiful memory, the sort that's worth remembering when I'm old and gray and completely alone.

His fingers worked the buttons of blouse and the cool afternoon air floated across my hot skin and it was divine. He dragged me down into the grass beside him, attacking my neck with a fervor I never knew existed. It didn't matter it wasn't going to last. It didn't matter that it wasn't real. It was the moment, a defining moment if you will. The thoughts weren't swirling through my brain so quickly I couldn't keep up. I wasn't holding conversations with myself while compiling lists of books I needed for my library, while wondering what Ginny was doing and how my mum was fairing and what I was going to do with the rest of my life. It was calm. It was peaceful. It was home.

"Mr. Malfoy, you've a visitor." Well shit. He tore his lips from mine, his thumb still brushing across my erect nipple and looked directly into the eyes of his mother. I had never truly wanted to die, until that moment.

"Fuck, I've got to speak with her. Meet me here, after dinner. They'll never notice, I won't take no for an answer." He shielded me from his mother's disapproving glare, and whispered in my ear. He pulled my shirt closed and kissed me quickly, as if I mattered, before walking away with his mother. I knew I would meet him.

He wasn't the boy I remembered. He wasn't the angry, sneering, pompous git. He wasn't the crying, terrified yet angry arse. He was a man, just like every other man and I liked this man. My faux friends wouldn't understand and honestly, I wouldn't expect them too. Ginny would though, if it came down to it, because that's what the people you love do. They accept all of you; the good, the bad and the hideously ugly. If there happens to be something that makes you feel the pull of life once more after years of simply surviving, they smile and tell you it's wonderful.

I could see him in the distance and he didn't look happy. I'd come to learn his nuances well over the past few days, weeks and even months. He was determined to remain in control, but the tic in his cheek jumped furiously and his fists were clenched. His mother on the other hand, looked positively thrilled. She was all smiles, patting his shoulder absently. I felt a cloud of melancholy cover me and realised it was for him. His own mother didn't know him, not the way I did and I was no one. Instead of watching them further, I went inside. I didn't want to see him retreat into the boy I had once seen. I couldn't say I had known him then, I hadn't, but I had seen him. I had seen the fear in his eyes belying the angry shouts of his rough voice. I suppose we were alike in that fashion. We both had our secrets then and now from the looks of it.

I barely tasted my dinner. It was not as if it were gourmet fare. It was barely palatable most days. I ate alone. I had forgotten what it was like to eat alone. We ate together. We sat together during the absolutely horrid meetings and snickered at the patients who droned on and on about things no one cared about. It might sound cruel, but you'd understand if you were ever in such a facility. He got me through the moments I wished to shout at them, telling them how inconsequential their petty little issues really were in the grand scheme of things. He didn't come to dinner.

I took a shower and put on a pretty white and blue paisley skirt. Ginny had insisted I purchase it. She said it would make me feel feminine and it did. The kerchief bottom swirled around my legs and I loved it. I paired it with a long sleeve white shirt and a pair of trainers. I thought my hair would never dry and for the first time since my arrival, I missed my wand. I pulled my damp curls back into a ponytail. I couldn't be bothered to do more and snuck out the backdoor the moment the sun set.

He was already waiting for me beneath what I had come to think of 'our tree'. I looked over my shoulder and realised we couldn't be seen from the building. No wonder they'd never come looking for me. They'd never seen me. I sat beside him, studying his pensive profile. He looked pained and I didn't like it. I didn't like the flutter of anxiety under my ribs and I felt my hands tremble slightly. I couldn't explain why it was affecting me as much as it was. This was it, the moment I'd been dreading. I hadn't realised I'd been dreading it, but my heart fought valiantly with my brain as they often did and the consensus was the same. It was difficult to breathe through the realization, through the pain of it all, but I managed. I had always been the strong one and it seemed as if this time was no different. He needed me to be strong. I could see it in the slouch of his shoulders, the way his fingers danced across his forehead, shoving those locks I knew so well.

He drew me into his side and sighed. I felt an overwhelming sense of peace shroud me and I never wanted the moment to end. I wanted to savor it, every breath, every nuance, every whisper. I knew what he was going to say before he said it and I willed myself not to crumble.

"I'm leaving tomorrow." He sniffed my hair and I could feel the tension coming off him in waves. I wanted to ask a million questions, but I didn't want to press him. "Don't ask me why. Let's just…let's just have tonight. Can we do that Hermione?" He cupped my face in his hands, his stormy eyes desperately searching mine and I couldn't refuse him.

"Of course." My voice didn't sound like my own, but he didn't seem to mind. It didn't take long for his lips to find mine. It wasn't the soft, sweet kiss from that afternoon. It was needy, pressing and even a little desperate. I needed it just as much as he. It was our hello. It was our goodbye. It was ours.

I clutched his biceps when he pulled me into his lap. He groaned at the contact, which made me feel empowered. He adjusted our bodies until he was pressed against the rough bark of our tree and I was straddling his lap. His fingers dug into my thighs, his teeth nipping my neck. I didn't expect this frenzy. I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't this. I didn't mind, not really. I rocked against him, smiling against the torrent of kisses and my shirt was on the ground. I hoped it didn't fly away, but I was lost in sensations. I was lost in him.

I went from never been kissed to completely starkers on sharp blades of grass with him above me, paying tribute to my nudity. I don't know why he was different. I don't know why I was willing to allow him to take all of me, but I was. Perhaps it was…he knew me in ways I didn't know myself. He understood me in the comfortable silences as much as the disjointed conversations. He wasn't interested in returning to his childhood anymore than I was and yet we were bound by that which we were and it wasn't possible to change it. Perhaps it was simply because he made me feel alive.

When he lay on top of me, I thought that was the epitome of heaven. I'd never felt anything like it before nor since. His chest against mine, his lips, oh those lips, teasing and nibbling. His hand shimmied between our bodies and he touched me, growling deep in his throat. He stroked and probed places that had never been touched. I was a piano and he plucked all the right keys to create a beautiful melody. I wasn't aware of what my body was capable of doing until that night. When I felt him thrust into me, I wasn't overcome with pain, I was finally complete. We moved in perfect rhythm, beneath the starry, starry night, littering the night sky with the sounds of our symphony.

Afterwards he fingered the rubber purple bracelet I kept on my left wrist. I always wore long sleeves so he'd never seen it before. The sliver of moon provided the only speck of light as he kissed me slow. It was a silly bracelet. My mum had given it to me. I didn't really give it much thought, but it was comforting. It was always there. It was as much a part of me as he was now.

We dressed in a cacophony of whispers and giggling before heading back into the facility. The moment we stepped through the door it hit me. He was leaving. He was leaving the facility. He was leaving. He was leaving me. I wasn't familiar with the immobilising constriction of my chest. I crashed into the wall as he walked me back to my room. I couldn't walk. I couldn't breathe. I felt myself folding in half, grappling for scraps to keep myself intact. The boisterous canvas constantly splashed with blots of colours and shapes was blank. I didn't know how to function without it, not anymore. It was always there, always demanding, always highlighting my flaws and coveting the specks of sunshine until now. The overachieving brain which had always served me well, too well, had failed.

He carried me then. He didn't ask. He cradled me as if I mattered, as if I were something precious. He didn't whisper false words of encouragement. He didn't tell me it would be alright. He placed me on his narrow bed, wrapping me in his duvet and climbed in beside me.

He fingered my bracelet again and I was embarrassed now. I didn't want him to ask me about the rubber letters. It was silly, but it was mine. I felt him hold my hair off my neck and something cool hit my collarbone. I couldn't make myself open my eyes. He was leaving. He was leaving the facility. He was leaving me…and I didn't want to watch him go. He slipped my bracelet off my wrist and I let him.

"I'm leaving tomorrow." He whispered into my hair, holding me so tightly against him I almost couldn't breathe but I didn't care. I clung to him as if he was the only real thing in my life and perhaps he was.

"I know." My voice broke and I hated it.

"You'll leave soon as well. You should go, Hermione and do everything you talked about. You should recreate yourself and build a beautiful, beautiful life. I wish I could see it. I bet it would be brilliant." He kissed my forehead and I hated how defeated he sounded. I hated how much it felt like goodbye.

"Why can't you?" I didn't want to know. I didn't want to beg. I didn't want to be weak. I was afraid of the answer, but the long dormant part of me, the resilient me, demanded I give her a voice.

"We loved a lifetime." I heard his breath hitch and I fought against my clouded mind. My body was demanding sleep, but I couldn't, I couldn't. I had to spend every moment with him until there weren't any more.

"It isn't enough." I mumbled against the side of his neck, lifting my weary head and kissing him hard.

"I know." I heard him whisper as I drifted off to sleep in his arms.


	2. Twenty-One - D

**AN: I'm struggling through some timeline issues, I'd appreciate it if you'd bear with me. Also, if you spot discrepancies, feel free to point them out, sometimes fresh eyes is all it needs. *kisses***

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Chapter 2 – Twenty-One - D

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I still missed her. It had been over a year and I knew I didn't have the right, but it's not as if I had a choice in the matter. She plagued my every waking moment, my every breath and I was powerless. I didn't try to stop myself, not really. It was the one truth in my life. For a brief moment in time, she was mine and it was perfect.

Slowly, with bated breath no less, I opened the top drawer of my desk. I spent entirely too much time locked away in my study, but it was necessary and better than the alternative. I could allow myself to be the man I wished to be in this place. I removed the false bottom and taking a shallow breath I picked it up. It was faded and some of the letters were worn, but it didn't matter. I slipped it over my fingers, closed my eyes and sighed. It was more painful to remember than I thought it would be.

I shouldn't have said the things I did. I shouldn't have left her the way I did, if at all. No, I most definitely should not have left her. I had too. I keep telling myself I had to, but I don't even know if that's true anymore. I didn't want to admit I had feelings for her. I don't know how it happened.

She was different than I remembered. My mother had selected a Muggle facility for privacy which I appreciated. Heaven forbid the sole heir of the Malfoy fortune marred the family name. The Wizarding World would fall to its knees if I dared to impugn my family's honor. It was difficult attempting to live a life beyond reproach.

I hadn't expected to come across Granger. She never spoke. She looked so empty in comparison to the passionate Gryffindor I remembered. She was a ghost of the former spitfire I remembered. I hadn't given her a second thought then. She was, well what was she? She was bloody brilliant and if it hadn't been for her brilliance, I supposed the world would be a shadow. I remembered how I loved to torment her in school, but she never seemed to crumble and dammit I respected that.

The staff never bothered her. They never pressed her into sharing in their ridiculous gatherings. It was almost as if she were invisible. I saw her. I almost wished I hadn't. She lost all her fire. She had lost everything that made her…her. I wondered what landed her in a Muggle mental health facility but I wasn't going to ask. She didn't sneer at me. She didn't avoid me but she didn't seek me out either. I was intrigued.

It would have been easy to say life had been deliriously easy after Hogwarts, after the war, but it wasn't. Potter was still being applauded as a War Hero and I didn't even care. I was happy it was finally over. My father on the other hand, was on house arrest and absolutely cantankerous. He hated restriction, even if it was of his own making. I found it hard to function in his presence. Actually that was an understatement. It was downright excruciating. Every moment he glowered and bellowed sent me reeling back to a darker time. Whenever I closed my eyes I was a terrified child cowering in the presence of a lunatic. Sometimes I wondered if it was a horrific childhood which had driven toward…

I honestly hadn't meant to take as much Sleeping Draught as I had. It was an accident. I had simply forgotten I had taken it in the first place. No one believed me of course, fuck I wasn't sure I believed me. My mother's personal Healer had wanted me sent immediately to St. Mungos for observation. Thank Merlin my parents adamantly opposed and opted for a Muggle facility. I never thought my parents, of all the self absorbed, blatantly pompous pureblood families to ever exist, would choose a Muggle facility. I was sure Muggles were still beneath them, but then again, it served their purposes. Propriety above all else, really should have been the Malfoy motto. Of course they were more concerned with appearances than my mental health but if they hadn't, I never would have seen her.

I learned from her. If you didn't cause trouble and remained quiet, they'd leave you alone. That's what I wanted really. I just wanted to be left alone. I wanted to be free, but what was the point of wishing for the impossible. She obviously wanted something, but other than the comfort of silence I didn't know what she wanted. It didn't bother me to wonder about it, though I knew my father would be absolutely appalled which pleased me greatly.

I noticed little things at first. She smiled, but it couldn't really be called a smile. It was a thinning of her lips and it never reached her eyes. She always wore long sleeves, which made me wonder what she was hiding. She intrigued me because she was different. I noticed the way she always removed the tomatoes from her salad, the way she never laughed. Sometimes I'd spend hours studying her and noticed the way she'd disappear sometime during midday and I followed her.

It really was a beautiful spot. The gargantuan tree vaguely reminded me of the Whomping Willow besides the fact it wasn't flailing about attempting to kill everyone in its path. It was down a small incline which couldn't be seen from the facility. Their security really was quite lax. I had assumed Muggles would have tried harder to keep their prisoners, I mean patients locked safely within their walls, especially without the advantage of magic.

The first time I sat beside her, I braced myself. She didn't even glance in my direction. It was peaceful and I needed that. I needed it desperately. We sat side by side in the grass, watching the sun sink low into the sky. It was comforting to feel as if I weren't alone if only for that short time. It was what I always imagined home would feel like.

Eventually I braved her wrath and spoke to her. She sounded so resigned, as if there wasn't anything more than that particular moment. She was funny; though I'm sure she wasn't trying to be. We never spoke of the reasons we were there. We never spoke of the past, our past. It was an unspoken taboo and I appreciated it. I appreciated everything about her. She never had visitors yet she never seemed to be jealous of those that did. She didn't receive letters either, as far as I had seen, and it made me wonder if she was as alone as I felt.

My mother detested visiting me and I was moments away from a good hexing the first time she saw me speaking to Granger. I'm sure she suspected there was something between us, but she had entirely too much class to ask. If my mother had asked and I had answered her properly she would have fainted dead away. Of course she'd say it was an attack of the vapors but we'd both know it would be due to visions of less than pure heirs torturing her very existence. Granger would have laughed.

I have to think of her as Granger now. It hurt to think of her as Hermione. She was Hermione there and we could never return to that time, to that place. I had obligations. I've always had obligations and I abhor them. I hate missing her.

Today is her birthday and I wonder what she's doing. I could hear the inane chatter on the other side of my study door, but I had warded it well. They weren't going to ruin this moment for me. I hadn't seen her since the day my mother removed me from the facility. Mother hadn't approved of my 'closeness with the Muggle-born witch'. It made me angrier than I thought it would. It wasn't really that long ago I would have agreed with her, but things were different now. Everything was different. Mother didn't understand that I spent hours upon hours for weeks upon weeks with that Muggle-born witch. I knew her in ways Potter and Weasley never would. She knew me in ways Blaise and Pansy couldn't even fathom. She didn't make me feel like a coward. She didn't make me feel like I failed at everything…at life.

Merlin I missed her. Fuck, why did things have to be the way they were? Why did I have to say the things I said? I shouldn't have slept with her. I didn't regret it, I couldn't. It simply ruined me for anyone else, not that I had even tried. She was everywhere, how could I?

Mother immediately tried to force me into a bloody arranged marriage. As if I was going to fall for that. I mean, I wasn't going to pursue Granger for her, what more did she want from me? I was running the family business, regardless of the fact I absolutely detested it, but that wasn't enough either. Apparently she wanted little blond grandchildren as well. I had half a mind to say 'fuck it' and track Granger down.

It was so easy to fall down the Muggle rabbit hole and lose myself in memories of her…

_"What's with the purple thing on your wrist?" I desperately wanted to kiss her, but I couldn't risk it. She had lured me in and she didn't even know it. I couldn't stop staring at her. Those curls I used to mock were so soft and I loved to twirl them around my fingers. She didn't seem to mind. Her eyes, which I had facetiously referred to as a 'muddy' brown, had flecks of green in them. She was witty, far more intelligent than I ever gave her credit and I was in love with her. I don't know when it happened. It didn't matter, not really. _

_I had heard she was at the facility for six weeks before I arrived. It had taken me three weeks to sit beside her in the damp grass under that ridiculous tree. It didn't matter how cold it was, she was always there. She was the one constant and I needed it. I needed her. _

"_My mum gave it to me." I could only see the thin purple band, and it was strange to me. I had never seen anything like it. It was always hidden by the sleeve of her shirts, but every now and then I could see it peeking out. It intrigued me, much like the way she did. It was different and so was she. Neither of which bothered me in the least._

"_Is that what makes it special?" She smiled at me. It was the first time I'd ever seen her smile at me and I hoped it wouldn't be the last. She didn't answer me, but I didn't mind. I had to tell her then. It wouldn't feel right to disappear from her life without some warning. I twisted one of her many curls around my finger and tugged it, grazing her cheek_

_It was funny how our conversation segued into children. I wanted to have children. I wanted to raise them properly. I didn't want them to be anything like me. I wanted more than one. I'd always wanted a sibling. As I was talking to her, I realised, I did want a daughter. I wanted a daughter desperately, with silky soft blonde curls and caramel eyes, but I couldn't tell her that. I didn't tell her that, instead, I kissed her. I shouldn't have, but I needed her. I knew I was going to have to let her go, but for that moment, she was mine and it was perfect._

"_I'm leaving tomorrow." I didn't want to leave. I didn't feel ready to leave, but my parents didn't care any longer. My father was demanding my presence. He expected me to set aside childish notions. He expected me to marry a bride of his choosing and carry on his legacy. I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but I wasn't strong enough, not yet. I felt I could get there with her beside me but that wasn't fair to her. She deserved to make her own life, fulfill her own fantasies. She didn't deserve to be tied to me and the havoc of it all. I wanted her to have it all. I wanted her to be happy and I couldn't make her happy, not in the long run. I was going to have to let her go, as much as it pained me. For the first time in my life, I wasn't being a selfish prat; at least I didn't think so._

_I thought she would handle the news better than she did. I was still reveling in the afterglow of her body against mine. She was so soft. She reminded me of a delicate piece of china, so fragile, so beautiful. I never wanted to let her go. If there was a way to keep her and escape my father's wrath, I would have taken it. She deserved more than that, more than I could give. I suppose, I was still a coward. I carried her to my room and when she fell asleep in my arms, I couldn't imagine a better moment than that. I suppose I sound a bit like a woman, but that's alright. Better a woman than a coward._

_I hadn't planned on being there when she woke, but when I inspected that stupid piece of Muggle jewelry, I couldn't leave. I fingered the letters before kissing her bare shoulder blade. She hadn't noticed the pendant I slipped around her neck and I didn't want her too. I didn't want her to know I was leaving a piece of myself behind with her. I hoped later she'd see it and perhaps one day in the future it would remind her to think of me fondly._

"_You're still here." Her sleepy smile about broke my heart. Instead, I smiled and burrowed into the blankets with her wrapped in my arms. It was my birthday. She didn't need to know that either. I didn't have much time. I knew my mother would be impatiently pacing outside the Muggle facility, but I needed to hold her one last time. I needed to show her I loved her, even if I couldn't tell her._

_It was easy to roll her on her back in her current state. Her arms came around me easily, dragging me on top of her and I wasn't complaining. Her kisses were so soft and sweet. I wasn't used to feeling like that. I was used to aggressive witches, demanding everything except my soul. She truly asked for nothing, just me. I wished I could have given her that much. She slid her leg over my hip, bending it at the knee. She looked so fucking sexy. I hadn't known it was possible to be innocent and sexy until her. I didn't dominate her. I didn't attempt to consume her. I didn't want to fuck and forget her. I rocked into her and it was intense. I'd never stared into a witch's eyes as I moved within her. I never looked at them at all. I found all I wanted to do was look at Granger. I wanted to memorise the flush of her skin, her pink parted lips, the darkening of her eyes. I never wanted to forget her responses and I realised, this was making love._

"_What's it say?" Granger panted lightly, giving me a sort of quizzical glance. "The jewelry from your mum, what's it say?" I knew exactly what it said, but I wanted her to say it. I needed her to say it, just once, even if it didn't mean a bloody thing. I was being selfish, slipping back into the habits of my youth._

"_Draco, what are you, ohh, going on about?" Her pebbled breasts scraped across my chest and her thighs were shaking. I dropped my head to hers, boring into her eyes._

"_Tell me, tell me what it says Hermione." I knew she was close. I knew I was close, but I pressed on. She was always so bloody stubborn, at least that much hadn't changed. She kissed me hard, taking control and going so far as to bite my lip, in the seconds before she came undone around me._

"_It says…it says…" I could see a flash of fear in her eyes and I didn't understand it then. I moved a bit faster, eager to join her, our body's slick with sweat._

"_Say it."_

"_I love you." It was a breathy sort of sigh, almost like she meant it. I held her so tightly against me, I wasn't sure she could breathe as my body tingled with an overwhelming release. I panted into the side of her neck, collapsing on top of her as her fingers stroked my back._

_It was time. I had to leave. If I didn't leave then, I wasn't going too. I hated my father. I hated my mother. I hate myself, but I didn't hate her. I couldn't hate her. I climbed out of my bed without a word and dressed quickly, my eyes on the floor. I could feel her watching me, but I had made my decision, the bitter bile of regret swirling on my tongue. I stood by the door, my hand on the knob before taking a chance to glance at her one last time. She was on her stomach, the sheet haphazardly draped across her back. Her hair was a bloody tumbleweed and her head was propped on her hand, watching me. Her eyes were almost my undoing. They were so fucking sad and I knew it was my fault._

"_I..I don't…" I couldn't say it, but she knew. She swallowed hard, offering the smallest of smiles. I could see tears pricking the corners of her eyes._

"_I know."_

I couldn't think about that anymore. It was the greatest error of my life. Most people would be surprised by such a revelation. They'd assume it was succumbing to the will of my father. They'd assume it was fixing the Vanishing Cabinet and letting the Death Eaters into Hogwarts or even the attempt on Dumbledore's life, but they'd be wrong. Those were the errors of an errant youth, the errors of a cowardly childhood. Leaving Granger the way I had, that was the error of a man.

I needed to get out of the bloody Manor. I'd spent days holed up in my study, reliving every fucking moment I spent with Granger. I couldn't venture out of my study without my mother hovering over me, intent on introducing me to an acceptable witch to fill the role of the next Lady Malfoy. She didn't understand my apathy. She was blind to the yearnings of my heart. Perhaps, if she'd had the slightest modicum of empathy, I could manage to explain it to her. I dismissed the thought almost instantly. I couldn't imagine a day where my mother cared for anything more than the perfection she demanded. I couldn't imagine a world where I felt loved by anyone other than Granger. Fuck.

Andromeda would understand. Maybe I'd pay her a visit. It wasn't the worst idea I'd ever had. Granger's birthday was over; I could almost draw a full breath, but I didn't. I desperately needed a drink. At least in an alcohol induced haze I could pretend I was going home to Granger. Without another thought, I crept down the long corridor, breathing a sigh of relief when I reached the foyer without incident.

"Draco? Darling is that you?" Apparently I spoke too soon; I really should do something about that. Instead, I ran through the foyer, threw open the front door to the Manor and Apparated to Diagon Alley.

Dinner hour had long since passed, but that wasn't important. I still needed a drink. I was desperate for one actually. I needed to forget. I needed to move on, but I felt a bit stuck. I was stuck, I knew it and it was of my own making. I wanted to blame her but I couldn't. She was, well I didn't know where she was, but she wasn't fucking here and perhaps that was the problem.

I kept my head down, as it had become habit and entered the Leaky Cauldron. My father would never think to look for me here. He condemned the establishment for catering to Mudbloods and Blood Traitors. I was a bit proud to discover I had released such prejudices…because of her. Sweet fucking Salazar was anything fucking mine?

I spotted Potter and the younger girl Weasley squeezed into a table in the corner. Potter caught my eye and nodded. We weren't friends, but since my father's company was the only company dedicated to the mass production of Potions, we ran in the same social circles, if you can imagine. Apparently even Aurors required copious bottles filled with obscure Potions. Ginny! That was her name. She gave me a smile, which I wasn't expecting and I faltered a bit. I didn't know how to deal with kindness. I was prepared for civility; it was to be expected, but kindness? I hadn't been on the receiving end since…her. Dammit, there was no escape. I waved half heartedly and settled onto a stool at the bar. I was close enough to converse with them if I chose, but I wasn't quite there yet. If she was here, we would have sat with them and chatted about everyday nonsense and I cringed. Not because the thought was so disgustingly revolting, but because I wanted it.

"What do you expect me to do?" Potter was practically growling at his girl. It was easy to eavesdrop and I hadn't anything better to do, so why not? I waved over Tom and ordered a bottle of firewhisky. I could imagine Granger shaking her head at me and sighing. Fuck.

"Harry, you're an Auror. What's the point of being the bloody Chosen One if you can't find my best friend for me?"

"Ginny, she's not lost. She sent an owl. She's fine." I could imagine Potter rolling his eyes and almost snickered, but I didn't wish to draw attention to myself.

"She's not fine. She hasn't been fine since her parents sent her to that facility." I wondered how much the ginger knew. Had Granger confided in the Weasley? I supposed it wasn't the worst thing in the history of the world, better Ginny than fucking Ron.

"She sounded alright to me…"

"Shut it. You obviously don't know a bloody thing, Harry Potter. She was almost happy. I don't know what happened there, but it bloody well wrecked her. Kingsley had to forge paperwork to get her released for fuck's sake and you're trying to tell me she's fine?"

"You're so dramatic. Kingsley drafted that paperwork because she requested it. She didn't want to spend her birthday in that place. Can you blame her?" Potter slammed his fist on the table and I dared a glance over my shoulder. Ginny was seconds away from hexing the bloke and he hadn't a clue. How he managed to save wizarding kind would always remain a mystery. Except it wasn't a mystery, it was because of her. Sweet Salazar this is my life isn't it? I'll never be able to escape her and eventually my heart will shrivel in my chest and if I'm lucky I'll die. Perhaps the afterlife is much more forgiving than I've heard.

"Then where is she Potter? She didn't come back for her birthday. We're her best friends and she's not here. She sent me an owl telling me she's going to bloody Cornwall and you're fine with it. She _hates_ Cornwall! I sent her an owl and tell her I love her and she..." Ginny's voice broke and I was slightly alarmed.

"She what?" Well fuck. Brilliant, I'm bloody brilliant. I hadn't meant to say a word. Potter sneered and rolled his stupid eyes but Ginny didn't seem to be bothered by my intrusion so perhaps it would be alright. Ginny left Potter at the table and took the stool next to me.

"She wrote back and said 'it isn't enough'. I sent her another owl and it was returned, unopened. It's alright though, Harry bleeding Potter says she's fine so it must be fine." I pushed over my bottle of whisky and she gratefully poured herself a drink. Great, now I'm reduced to drinking with bloody Gryffindors. What did it matter anyway? I was already in love with one. It took every ounce of willpower to keep from smashing my forehead into the bar.

"It's my fault." I whispered into her ear. Her hair tickled my nose, I didn't mind it, but I moved away. I didn't want Potter to get any ideas. She didn't bellow at me or even beat me about the head. Her blue eyes narrowed and she nodded. She was trying to piece together the puzzle and if she was friends with Granger it wasn't going to take her long. She snatched a linen from the bar and scribbled on it with her wand of all things. She stuffed it into my fist and returned to Potter.

"What was that about? Friends with Malfoy now are you?" Potter still sounded like a sanctimonious arse, but I suppose some things really did stay the same.

"I'd be friends with Voldemort himself if he was concerned for Hermione so you can stuff it, Harry Potter." I resisted the urge to snort and say something completely disparaging. It would have been so easy, it always had been, but I didn't want to be that boy. I wanted to be a man, a man worthy of her and he wouldn't have done such things.

I waited until they left before I opened the linen. I was a bit scared honestly. I'd never been alone with the girl Weasley, er Ginny. It wasn't something I had jotted on my list of things to do before I die. She's quite terrifying when she's angry and if she listened to even half of what I wanted to say…she'd be bloody fucking furious.

**King's Cross Station. Platform 9 ¾. Midnight.**


	3. Twenty-Two - H

**AN: I figure, since I'm half a dozen chapters ahead, why wait to post eh? *kisses***

* * *

Chapter 3 – Twenty-Two - H

* * *

On my twenty-first birthday I learned I was pregnant. I had been travelling, trying to find a new place in the world when the idea first crossed my mind. I pushed it aside; I had become quite adept at that. The world was full of possibilities. He told me I deserved to go, I deserved to build a beautiful life, but how beautiful could it be without him? I felt so fucking empty. In retrospect, feeling empty is so much better than feeling the weight of so much pain. It presses on me. There are some moments when it feels like I'm being ripped apart, from the inside out, yet it never ends. It's a never ending sort of burn and the only way I can survive it, is to push it into the deep recesses. In its perfect little box in the corner of my mind, shut tight.

I had only been out of the facility for a few weeks. I had forgotten how overwhelming the world really is. Some mornings I had difficulty simply getting out of bed. It didn't matter where I went, there I was and there he wasn't. It was my problem, my issue, my heart and I didn't know how to stop breaking.

I remembered begging Kingsley to get me out. It was difficult, communicating with him, I mean. He sent owls to my mum and in the beginning she had refused to bring me the post. She truly believed I would be better if I simply left behind all that 'magical nonsense'. She didn't understand that magical nonsense was part of me just as I'm a part of her. She didn't understand a lot of things but I loved her anyway.

I didn't argue with her, there was never any point to that. My mum was a special sort of woman. She didn't like things she didn't understand which basically encompassed me. I was fine with it. No, that was a lie. I was never fine with it, but I pretended I was. It was easier that way. I had gone back to pretending. It didn't hurt as much that way. I knew I was probably making a colossal error, but it was better than the alternative. The alternative was drowning myself in memories of _him_. Now that would be truly pointless. It was silly to desperately cling to a few months of…a breathtakingly beautiful, soul quenching force of life, wasn't it? It was over. It was killing me, but it was over and I had to let it go, except I couldn't. I'd never be able to let it go, not anymore.

* * *

_"Jeanie? Are you alright in there? You know how your dad hates to wait." My mum's timid knock would have made me laugh under different circumstances._

_ She was constantly hovering, smiling, offering me cups of tepid tea and asking me if I'm alright. I couldn't tell her the truth. I was far from all right. I spent many a night suffocating the sounds of my tears into pink patterned pillows. I couldn't tell her. She'd blame herself for the renting of my heart. It wouldn't matter that it had nothing to do with her; everything had something to do with her._

_ "I'm fine mum. I just need a minute. Tell dad it's alright to start without me." My forehead tapped the oak door with just enough force to make me uncomfortable, yet not loud enough for my mum to worry._

_ I allowed my body to slump over itself. It was soothing to curl myself into a ball on the cool tile of the lavatory floor. I kept squeezing my eyes shut; willing the answer to be different, but that bloody Muggle stick remained the same. How could I have been so stupid? How would I tell him? Could I tell him? That would be breaking some sort of rule wouldn't it? I hadn't heard a word from or of him since I escaped. It was better that way. I wasn't planning on coming to my parents. I just wanted…no, I needed, I'm not even sure what I expected. Things here were the same, they were always the same. As much as I had changed, my parents hadn't and it pained me. I needed to do what I set out to do. I deserved that much._

_ I felt like I was walking the gallows when I stepped down the stairs to see my parents seated at the same old table eating yet another dinner of meatloaf and mashed potatoes. I suppose it was comforting in a strange sort of way. They would always be the same, no matter where I went, no matter what I did._

_ "Mum, Dad. I have something to tell you and you're going to be disappointed in me, but I can live with that. I've lived through worse. I'm pregnant. I'm leaving." I hadn't given them a chance to say a word and it felt good. _

_ I wasn't perfect and while my parents always knew, there I was blatantly throwing it in their face. I ran up those stairs so fast I barely remember it. I grabbed a bag and filled it with random articles of clothing and climbed out the window. It was entirely juvenile, but I knew if I went back down those stairs and witnessed the abject horror or listened to my mother's weeping, I'd never leave._

_ Ginny's ruddy owl almost smashed into my face. I wasn't expecting a letter from her. I'd told her I needed time. I told her I would contact her when I was released and yes I was lying but she didn't know that. Ugh, Harry. Of course it had been Harry. He never could keep his mouth shut._

_ I snatched the parchment from the owl and her words cut through me. She loved me. Of course she loved me. I loved her as well, desperately, yet at the end of the day, it wasn't enough. It was never enough. It would never be enough because I loved him. I loved him so much it hurt to breathe. It hurt to force myself out of bed every damn morning and go through the motions of living. _

_ I had to live now. I might not want too. I might wish to scour the cupboards for the pills I knew were no longer there, and drown myself in a vat of red wine, but I couldn't. Gods be damned I had someone else to worry about now. The only piece of him I would ever have and it was precious._

* * *

I hate Cornwall. I've always hated Cornwall, but it was far enough away that maybe I had a chance. I had this absolutely ridiculous idea if I left behind the world I once knew, I could put him behind me and come up daisies.

The sea air was exhilarating, but I wasn't there to sniff the air like a bloodhound. The first thing I did of course was walk into a pub. It was a dark, dirty little place, but that didn't bother me in the least. It was rowdy and the other patrons didn't give me a second glance. Well, that's not entirely true. There was one particular man who watched me quite a lot. I sipped a glass of wine, giving myself permission for a singular glass when he approached me.

I don't remember the conversation. It doesn't matter. He wasn't brilliant. He wasn't handsome. He didn't know me and if I had my way he'd never know me. I smiled when it was appropriate to smile. I touched his arm when it was required. I was pretending and let's face it; I'm bloody aces at that. It would be easy to hide in him. Sure, I was trading in my problems for new problems but for once I didn't stop to analyze it.

_"Let's get married." He was completely pissed and his hazel eyes were bleary. I was sure he could barely see the pint in front of me, let alone me._

_ "You don't want to marry me. You're pissed." I couldn't help myself for laughing. He was bloody amusing. Apparently he'd escaped to Cornwall for a holiday. His family was pressing for him to come back to London and he was being a bit of a prat about it._

_ "You're the prettiest girl I ever seen. I'd be good ta ya. I've a lil cottage near the sea. We could be happy yea? Have a few kids, maybe a veggie patch and it could be good." His words weren't the prettiest I'd ever heard, but I was a desperate woman. It was stupid. It was ridiculous. It was insane, wasn't it?_

_ "I'm pregnant." It was only fair to be honest with the bloke wasn't it?_

_ "Well, that's alright then. He ain't here is he? I wouldn't wanna fight 'im." He smiled then and it was a cockeyed sort of half smile which I'm sure he intended to be sweet. _

_ "No, he's not here. He's not anywhere close to here. He's gone and…well he's never coming back." My voice wavered, I'm sure of it, but he didn't notice._

_ "Good, c'mon then. The vicar is just up the hill."_

_ "No, let's do it right." What the fuck was I saying? Maybe I should have stayed in that bloody facility. There would have been an uproar the moment I turned up pregnant and his family would have been immediately contacted, but marrying a stranger? Surely I was capable of making better choices than that._

It was a good thing I married the bloke. At least that's what I was telling myself. I didn't have to worry about him hurting me. I didn't love him, so there was absolutely no chance of that. He was nice enough, if a little possessive. It wasn't anything I couldn't handle. I managed to keep Harry and Ron in line for years, a Muggle was barely an obstacle.

I didn't tell Ginny right away, I couldn't. I waited almost a year before I sent her an owl. I knew she'd try to talk me out of it. I knew if I talked to her, I wouldn't stop. I would have told her everything. I think I was more afraid of her succeeding. She was suspicious and while I could understand that, I didn't want her to interfere. I knew she loved me, she'd always love me, but it wasn't enough. It was never enough.

It was easy to turn myself off the day _he_ left. If I didn't allow anyone to see into the deepest depths of me, they didn't have the power to hurt me. I resolved to never allow anyone to have that sort of power over me ever again. I hadn't meant to give it to him. I was simply, well, I lowered my walls and he slipped in like a thief in the night and stole away the fragile pieces of my heart.

I don't know why he took my bracelet. I'm sure it's significant in some way, shape or form, but I didn't understand it. I always did hate not being able to solve a puzzle. His eyes still haunted me. I saw him every time I closed my eyes and it still ached. I never took off the pendant he left with me. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. It was a dragon; of course it was a dragon. It was curled unto itself, its wings, a protective cloak with sparkling grey eyes.

* * *

He's a nice bloke, my husband. I still can't say it without cringing. Taylor, he's simply Taylor. I was quite surprised when Ginny didn't send me a Howler when I told her Taylor is a Muggle. I had guarded that secret relatively well. My mother was thrilled. She was thoroughly convinced I was leaving behind all that 'magic nonsense'.

I was in the midst of taking Draco's advice. I was changing my life, for me. We might have had an affair of the heart in the midst of a Muggle Mental Facility but in the outside world, we both knew it was impossible for it to go further. I was almost thankful for the manner in which he left. I knew he was begging for my declaration under a guise of the bracelet and I willingly gave it to him. I don't know why he couldn't follow through with his end. All he had to do was tell me he didn't love me. If he had, maybe I would have been able to let go. That was a lie. I would never be able to truly let go. I let the tears flow down my cheeks as I rocked in the antique white rocking chair, cradling his daughter in my arms.

Taylor pretended she was his, stupid man. It was easy to allow the lie to continue. It was sweet in a way. He wasn't a bad father. He tried; I had to give him that. He drank too much, he didn't work enough and he had a wicked temper, but he was nice to my little girl. It was important to me. Ginny once asked me why I married Taylor. I don't really think she wanted the truth or anything. She was quite put out I hadn't invited her to the wedding. I didn't have a wedding. I didn't want the people who loved me watch me walk down the aisle toward a man I obviously didn't love. It was hard enough having my mum there.

"_Do you love him?" My mum asked with a sad smile as she adjusted my veil. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath._

"_Uh, yeah." We both knew I was lying, but it was too late. I felt as if it were too late. I couldn't bear to crush her perfect little fairytale._

"_You don't have to do this." She walked me down the stairs of the quaint bed and breakfast before we were to head out to the garden._

"_I do, mum. It'll be alright." _

It was incredibly easy to let my mother think my daughter was Taylor's. She wanted to believe the lie as much as Taylor. It was lunacy but the truth was too painful. I couldn't tell her the truth. I couldn't tell her I was irrevocably in love with another man. I couldn't tell her I was willingly carrying his child.

I couldn't tell her that we'd never be together, that his family would never accept me. Our child would be scorned and none of it mattered because he didn't love me. I couldn't tell her how much I loved him. I had to marry Taylor. He thought he loved me. It was better than being alone. I know that sort of reasoning is terribly pathetic considering who I am. I couldn't imagine returning to the Ministry of Magic as a pregnant, single witch seeking employment. I would be scorned as well. As far as the Wizarding World had come, they still held fast to their antiquated notions.

I walked down that aisle with my veil obscuring my terrified eyes. I had half a mind to bolt, but Taylor looked happy. All I could think about was the expense. My parents were not particularly well off and it was so wasteful. My dad would be so disappointed in me. My mother would tell me it was fine that I did the right thing, but secretly? Secretly she'd resent me and I couldn't live with that. I did what I had to do. I married Taylor.

We lived in a tiny little cottage near the sea. He had lured me in with the cottage, it really was perfect. However, he hated it here and constantly wished for us to live near his parents in London. I couldn't risk it. It was too close. I didn't expect Draco Malfoy to go wandering around Muggle London, but if I saw him, I'd lose all of my resolve.

I patted my daughter's bottom while she groaned in her sleep. She sounded just like him. She might have my curls, but the colour was all him. Her hair was so soft. It curled gently around my fingers from the day she was born. Taylor frowned when he saw her the first time. Secretly, I loved her platinum locks. I was grateful she had my eyes.

Ginny was thrilled of course, practically begging to visit, but I put her off. I wanted to wait until I perfected the Charm. I couldn't have Ginny discovering my secret. I had a sneaking suspicion she was more informed than I believed, but I couldn't do anything about that. She constantly dropped hints in her post, telling me about Malfoy. I hated her for it. I didn't want to know if he was happy. I didn't want to know if he was dating a pretty witch. I didn't want to know he fucking got married. I knew it had been a year or so since we'd…since I'd…but it still stung. I knew I was being hypocritical, but it wasn't as if I could control the way I felt.

He didn't look particularly happy in the clipping Ginny sent me and I was glad. I felt smug actually. I didn't want him to be any happier than I was. The pretty brunette witch rolled her eyes in the moving photograph, shrugging off the arm around her shoulders. I burned the clipping before Taylor returned home. I didn't tell him I'm a witch. I knew I should have, but I wanted to keep everything separate.

I felt bound by a sense of duty, misplaced duty but duty just the same. The man I loved not only didn't want me, he'd married someone else. They didn't look especially happy, but he'd married **her**. Ginny didn't tell me much about him anymore. I was thankful as well as a bit forlorn. If he was happy, I could do this. I could suffer through anything if he was happy. I don't know why it was so bloody important to me. I couldn't explain it even if I were asked.

* * *

The first time he hit me, my daughter was four weeks old. It was over something silly and it was probably my fault. I egged him on. I antagonized him. He was ranting and raving over our living arrangements. I had my daughter over my shoulder and she needed a clean nappy. He was behind me, bellowing and I ignored him. I snatched a few tea towels to wash her bum and spun on my heel. I hadn't meant to strike him. My elbow hit the side of his jaw and suddenly I was on the floor. I managed to cradle my daughter from injury, but he grasped the back of my neck so hard I saw stars. I could feel my leg swelling at the very spot where it slammed into the other and I was furious. I craned my neck to look at him and his eyes were almost black with rage. His fist was drawn back and his breaths were these little hisses.

"Go on then." I dared him. My mum always told me I never knew when to keep my mouth shut. She was right. I couldn't help myself. I wasn't sorted into Gryffindor without cause, though sometimes courage borders on stupidity.

He released me after his eyes flitted between my position and his raised fist. I closed my eyes when he left the room, finally releasing the breath I hadn't known I was holding when the door to the cottage slammed shut.

I didn't see him again for three days. When he returned, he came bearing an armful of red roses. He showered my daughter in kisses and made promises. I tried to believe him. He made a valiant effort. He found gainful employment for the first time since I married him. It was nice to have him out of the house for hours at a time. I knew it wouldn't last long, but I enjoyed it while I could.

* * *

I missed Ginny. I was in the midst of formulating a plan to see her, when Taylor wandered home completely pissed.

"You think you're so much fucking better than I am." He wasn't slurring, yet he was unsteady on his feet. He crashed into the side table, knocking it over. The contents spilled across the stone floor and I gasped.

I hadn't touched my wand since the day I met Taylor, and there it was rolling toward his feet. He followed my gaze and snorted. I blinked and he was twirling my wand in his ungainly fingers, his eyebrows wiggling. He was mocking me.

"This lil stick means a lot to ya then?" His light brown hair was mussed when he scratched his head. It was funny to think in that moment, he reminded me of Harry. He tucked my wand in his back pocket, his lip curling. I prayed to Merlin my daughter didn't wake from her nap.

My Muggle mum had always instilled in me certain truths. One, life is the longest thing you will ever do, so do it well. Two, never stay with a man who strikes you, he's not a man, he's a coward. Three, I couldn't remember three, I didn't have the chance. Taylor pinned me to the wall by my throat, my toes were barely grazing the ground and I gasped for breath.

"Only Hermione Granger would marry a Muggle without discerning if he was actually a Muggle. Apparently she's not the brightest witch of her age. She's a broken, broken woman trying to mend her ridiculously broken heart." He squeezed, sneering into my stricken face. He knew. How did I not see it? Was I so completely blinded I missed the signs? Wait, were their signs? I didn't have time to ponder my decisions. Everything was fading to black and the floor rose up to smash my face.

My dad was always a firm believer in three strikes and you're out. It was a baseball metaphor I didn't quite understand. I'd never had the want or time to learn about any sport. That was strike two. My daughter was ten months old.

He left me on the floor that night. I woke up in a puddle of my own blood and my daughter howling in the nursery. He'd left and taken my wand with him I'd wager, since I wasn't able to find it anywhere. It served me right.

I never properly fit in either world anyway. In the Wizarding World, I was 'less than' because I was Muggle-born. In the Muggle world, I was just too different. I was caught between two worlds, bound to be taboo no matter where I chose to reside. It didn't matter where I belonged, I needed to get out. I wasn't thinking clearly, not yet, but I knew I had to come out on my feet. I didn't know any other way.

* * *

Professor Snape kept copious notes. Harry had found them in some of Snape's belongings and let me keep them, in the before. I had scurried them away in a copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ I kept in the bottom drawer of my bureau. They were a delight to read through and it amused me to great lengths to discover we had a common goal. I could see his face dripping with disdain at the very thought. It was a shame he was dead. He might have understood my situation more than anyone else. I needed to create a long lasting Glamour for my daughter. I still wasn't sure whether Taylor was a wizard, a squib or an eerily well informed Muggle, but the Charm would work on him as well. I wanted to alter your run of the mill Glamour Charm. I didn't want anyone else to be able to deduce my daughter's parentage. I wanted to keep her hidden, keep her safe.

I was also selfish and I wanted to see her exactly as she is. I remembered reading about Blood Revelations in an obscure text once but it was complicated. It would be worth it if I could see her as the beautiful child she is instead of the child I had to force her to become. The only drawback would be of course her father. I didn't need him to brew the Potion or complete the Glamour, but if she ever managed to mix blood with him, it would be over. I couldn't imagine a scenario where he would ever meet her, let alone mix blood with her and Taylor's actions forced me into action.

I needed to take my daughter and get away. Taylor would never allow it. He wouldn't care if I left, but he'd keep my daughter from me out of spite. This would take time and planning. I had plenty of time, as long as I walked the line and planning? Well, that was my second nature.

Taylor detested the holidays with a fiery passion I hadn't witnessed since Ginny's spectacular Bat-Bogey Hex. I waited until after Christmas, I was desperate, not completely stupid. Well, I suppose that's completely debatable, but dammit I'm trying. I made an error in judgement, but that didn't mean I couldn't rectify the situation, did it? Merlin, I hoped not. It was the only thing keeping me going.

"Ginny wants me to visit." Taylor nodded, chewing the fat of his steak.

"Yeah, alright. Go for a few days then, but **she** stays here. Can't have you running off now can I?"

"Taylor, she needs me I can't just…" He slammed his fist on the table, pointing at me with his steak knife.

"She's old enough now. She can stay with her _father_." He sneered the word, practically spitting. He growled and I knew the matter was closed. I was always treading water with him. He was so volatile. He hadn't laid a finger on me yet, that day anyway, but the threat of violence was always just below the surface. I knew it was only a matter of time. I'd prefer not to be here when it all came crashing down.

What a mess I had made. This is not the woman I was. I was stronger than this, wasn't I? I could almost remember a time when I felt damn near invincible. It was a hazy sort of memory, clouded in the cover of the past. I wanted to be that woman again, that witch. How long had it been since I laid her to rest? She began to fade before I went to that blasted Muggle facility. She was long gone by the time I married Taylor. I stood in the small space, feeling the room spin around me, closing in until it felt as if the walls were compressing me into oblivion. Fifteen months and I was going to claw my way out of this particular hell, just not today.

"How long have I got then?" My shoulders sagged with resignation and he gloated in triumph. Oh how I hated him. I couldn't see a way out, not then. I needed help but that was the conundrum. If I admitted what he'd done, what he continuously threatened to do to me, I'd see the pity in their eyes. The shock, outrage and even the horror of what my life had become and I couldn't bear that. It was my secret.

"Three days should be plenty. Hurry back. Might as well give her a kiss before you leave." Taylor was being curiously amenable, which worried me. "Oh little Miss Granger's gears are workin' overtime." He laughed then, spitting bits of potato onto the table. "I ain't leaving with your brat. She's insurance. If I keep her, you come back and all I want is you, baby." He kissed my cheek and I resisted the urge to wipe the slobber from my cheek.

With trembling limbs I walked into my daughter's nursery and held her tight. I smothered her giggling face in kisses as she patted my face. She's so beautiful. I didn't want to leave her behind, but if there was a way for me to protect her from Taylor's wrath, I'd do it. I'd do anything for her.

"Taylor, I need my wand." I hated the way he'd slink around the cottage, watching my every movement in the shadows. He stepped into the doorway, twirling my wand between his fingers, sitting my daughter on his hip. He held all the cards. I couldn't hex him without putting my daughter at risk. Even if I managed, I couldn't Apparate from our cottage and I'd never make it to an Apparition point while carrying the baby and he knew it.

"Use it wisely, kitten."

"Be kind to her, she's only a baby." I swallowed with difficulty and ignoring the brush of his skin against mine, I kissed my daughter's forehead and tugged her blonde curls.

"Don't forget you belong to me, whore." His fist gripped my unruly curls, yanking harshly at the base of my neck. I felt the tears prick my eyes, but I refused to let them spill. I wouldn't let him break me, not today.

In that moment, I vowed to cut off my hair. He would absolutely hate it and perhaps that was its draw. Taylor had ordered me to keep it long and it hadn't mattered to me in the beginning. I was known for my ridiculous hair. It was the hair Draco twirled around his finger. It was the hair Draco had nuzzled in his sleep. It was only hair, but it was mine and for the first time in my life, I hated it almost as much as I hated myself.

"How could I possible forget, Taylor?" He shoved me, hard and I fought to keep my footing. He dropped my wand onto the mint green carpet and stomped into the living room. I could hear the steady blare of the telly as I walked slowly down the lane.

* * *

I stared down at the Burrow and I was afraid. I was afraid to walk down the hill and see the people I had once considered family. I knew Harry and Ginny didn't live there anymore, but the Burrow would always be my second home. It was the first place I wanted to see. It was the first place I ever felt I belonged.

I was still a bit shaky from Apparition, I hadn't used my magic in so long, and I was pleasantly surprised I didn't splinch myself. I knew I was just beyond the wards and I wanted to run down the hill, but if they shunned me, I would break.

The Burrow was ablaze with lights, which made me wonder if the Weasleys were gathered together in celebration when I heard voices carrying through the night. I stepped forward, breaching the wards and my breath caught.

"Come on then, Potter. It's my only night free of the blasted shrew." I knew that voice. I dreamed of that voice. I longed for that voice. Why was he here? What did I do to deserve this madness?

"You married her, Malfoy!" Harry laughed, and it was Ginny trailing behind him.

"Don't remind me."

I must have made some sort of noise, whether it was a twig snapping beneath my feet, or an uncontrolled sob I couldn't be sure. Harry drew his wand and Draco, his pale hair shimmering in the moonlight, spun in my direction. I kept my eyes centered on Ginny. Merlin, how I missed her. It wasn't real until the moment I laid eyes on her. I wanted to run into her arms, sob on her strong shoulders and spill all my secrets, but I couldn't. I couldn't risk it. I was afraid.

Ginny grabbed Harry's arm, forcing it to his side and took a few steps forward. I backed up, afraid all my walls would come tumbling down. A hoarse, gut-wrenching sob escaped my swollen lips.

I hated that they were swollen. I hated that I was reduced to this. Taylor was always fond of a good slap when he thought I got out of line. If I counted those slaps as strikes, multiple games would be long over.

"H-Hermione?" I haven't the slightest how she deduced it was me, but she was running. I was frozen, willing my body to obey my demands, but it refused. It ached in need. Harry and Draco stood side by side in front of the Burrow, and while I couldn't make out their expressions, I imagined them scowling. Harry knew better than to interfere with a determined Ginny and before I knew it, I was enveloped in strong arms and surrounded in dark red hair.

I collapsed into her, my knees sinking into the muddied ground. I assumed Ginny made some sort of motion which kept Harry and Draco from following her and I was grateful. The sobs wracked through my body, making my ribs a bit sore. They'd never healed properly from strike two, especially without my wand.

"It's alright, it's alright, you're home now. We'll take care of you." Ginny smoothed my unruly hair, rocking me to and fro until I couldn't cry any longer.

"Ginny?!" I shook slightly upon hearing Harry's voice call up the hill and I was shaking my head.

"I'm fine, Harry. Stay down there eh?" Ginny called over my shoulder and I squeezed her in thanks. I wasn't able to speak, not yet.

"Mione?" He wasn't listening. I shouldn't have been surprised, he was Harry Potter. He'd always had a tendency to rush into the fray without thinking first. I opened my eyes and felt a wave of panic when I spied Harry and Draco casually ambling up the hill. Quickly, I extricated myself from Ginny's firm grip and wiped the tears and bogies from my face.

"No, I can't. Ginny, I can't…I've, I've got to go." I scrambled to my feet, my wand held shakily, pointed not at Harry, but at Draco. I didn't trust him. I couldn't trust him. He fixed me and broke me all in one swoop. I didn't come here for him. I came here for me. I came here for my daughter. I came here for freedom and as much as I wished it, he wasn't my freedom. Not anymore.

"Hermione wait." I cringed. His voice is still silky smooth and covered in lies. It was satisfying to see his steps falter. He'd never seen my anger, and I hadn't felt it in so long, my magic was crackling the airwaves.

"It was him, wasn't it?" Ginny glanced between us, slowly putting the pieces together.

"I can't, Gin. I've got to go. I've only got three days. He'll…he'll hurt her if I'm not back in time." I didn't want to listen to them anymore. I couldn't bare the understanding glimmering in her blue eyes swimming with tears.

"Go, Hermione, go to your special place. I'll find you after I deal with this lot." I didn't require any further instruction. I burst through the wards, running hard until I reached the Apparition point and with a wave of my wand, I was gone.

It was stupid to return here, but it was the last place I remembered feeling a sense of happiness. It was entirely too cold to sit in the grass, but I cast a Warming Charm and reveled in the feel of the rough bark beneath my back. I traced the ridges with my fingertip, breathing deep. I shouldn't have come. I wrapped myself in my shabby black cloak, covering my head and laid my head at the place where it began and ended.

I heard the crunch of the frozen grass and knew someone had arrived. It wasn't Ginny, I knew that much. I had a sneaking suspicion, but I was having quite an issue reigning in my magic. I could feel it crackling in the air and assumed my hair was standing on end, but what did it matter?

"Ginny sent me." I stiffened as he sat beside me. He didn't attempt to remove my cloak and I was glad. I didn't want to see him. I didn't want to touch him. I didn't want to hear his voice nor listen to his words. I was lying. I wanted all of those things and I hated myself for it.

"Go away."

"Hermione, please." That did it. I threw off my cloak, stood up and screamed into the night sky. It was cathartic and terrifying, though mostly terrifying.

"Don't you dare. You don't get to use my name. You don't get to say 'Hermione please'. You've got your perfect little life, with your perfect little wife, and probably a perfectly blonde heir or two so you can fuck right off. You have no business interfering in **my** life!"

"I..I thought you'd be alright." I laughed. It was so utter ludicrous.

"One hundred points from Slytherin for pure stupidity."

"You…you have to understand…" He sounded so pathetic. If I wasn't so busy controlling my magic, I would have hexed him on principle alone.

"Yes Malfoy, I know. You had obligations, familial obligations and it simply wouldn't do to disappoint dear old Death Eater dad by being involved with a Mudblood now would it?" I shoved him then and it felt good.

"You're the one that ran off and married that fucking Muggle!"

"What's it matter? You're the one that made a point to tell me you didn't love me!" I was crying again and screaming like a bloody banshee, but it didn't matter. I had kept every emotion under lock and key since the day he left and they were exploding in a fiery display. It felt…freeing. He grabbed my shoulders and gave me a shake. I couldn't wrench myself free and part of me didn't want too. I had missed the way he felt, the way he smelled, the way he'd held me in his arms as if I were something precious.

"I. Fucking. Lied."


	4. Her Twenty-Two - D

**AN: Slowly but surely...don't hate me too much. *kisses***

* * *

Chapter 4 – Her Twenty-two - D

* * *

My fucking wife was bloody furious when I came home completely pissed. I didn't blame her, but I also didn't care. I came home pissed most nights. It was a delicious habit formed out of the need to purge that bloody Gryffindor from my heart.

My father was the one that thought this marriage was such a fantastic idea. My father was the right bastard who approached her father without even consulting us. To say we were less than pleased is a gross understatement. Apparently we were both cowards as neither of us managed to say a word in rebuttal to the abysmal match.

Of course it was the night after I met Ginny at King's Cross that I found myself saddled with a completely unwanted fiancée. At that point it didn't matter; Granger had married some fucking Muggle. It infuriated me to see her in the horrendous gown, last year, last fucking year, mere months after we…and the lingering remnants of hope dissolved into a puddle of nothingness, with the minuscule pieces of my heart.

It shouldn't have broken me, I had left her. I had pushed her away. It didn't mean I didn't love her. I loved her enough to let her go, at least that's what I kept telling myself. Though, honestly, I knew it wasn't true. I let her go because I was still a trembling child, completely gutted with the idea of disappointing my father. I was still a coward. I swore to myself if I ever had another chance, I wouldn't let her go. I owed it to her. I owed it to myself.

* * *

_"I miss her." Ginny and I were sitting side by side on a pathetic excuse for a bench at Platform 9 ¾. I missed her too, but I couldn't admit that, not to her, not yet._

_ "Why are we here?" The Hogwarts Express had left weeks ago, ladened down with students new and old to embark upon their own adventure._

_ "Harry would never think to look for me here. How much do you know?" She wasn't looking at me, which made me feel a bit better about the strange situation._

_ "She uhm, she was in a Muggle facility." That was a perfectly safe answer; it was almost common knowledge at this point._

_ "She was a right mess. Do you know why she wound up there in the first place? No, of course you don't. No one does really, well, besides me. I sent her an owl a day for the first month she was gone. I had to send it to her mum and her mum promised to send them on but it didn't matter, she never answered. She sent them all back, unopened. Something happened, I don't know what, she wouldn't speak of it. The owls didn't come back. She started writing to me. It was like; everything was right with the world. I need her, much more than she needs me. She always lands on her feet, but not me. I couldn't help her, I didn't know how to help her, so I wrote her letters. I thought everything would be alright, I thought she would be alright when she started writing back. She didn't say much, but it was something. Something broke her, which is ironic really considering where she was and all. It was the beginning of summer and I was set to visit her, finally, and it started all over again. She'd return the post and instead of it simply being unopened, it would say 'return to sender'. It was almost as if she was trying to erase herself. When I finally managed to get to that blasted Muggle facility, she was gone. Harry never even told me about her release, not until later. I felt betrayed, but I knew it wasn't about me. She missed my wedding. I looked for her. I begged Harry to look for her but he's an arse. When I received that stupid clipping from her I was almost relieved. At least I knew she's alive."_

_ "What clipping?" I quite honestly didn't enjoy sitting around a dirty train station, listening to Ginny Potter lament her failed relationship, but this was about Granger. I looked for her curly head every time I ventured into Diagon Alley. I'd even wandered around Muggle London aimlessly, just on the off chance. I was a bit obsessed, but not enough to actually reach out to her. I just wanted to know she was alright. Apparently she wasn't…and it was my fault._

_ "I'd show it to you, but I burned it. I was quite furious, Harry can attest to that. It was a few days after her birthday last year. It was a Muggle photograph, a black and white one from a newspaper. She didn't look particularly happy but she was in a wedding dress next to this man with eyes black as pitch. I hated him on sight. There's something about him and it doesn't sit well with me." Ginny sighed, wringing her hands, shielding her face from me, but it wasn't necessary. It was obvious she was crying._

_ "I don't understand why I'm here." I struggled to form the words, my chest ached, my head pounded. It hurt, more than I was willing to admit. Here I was pining for her and she was…married. What a fool I'd been._

_ "Because Draco, I haven't anyone else and for a moment there, it seemed as if you were genuinely concerned. You're the wanker who said it was your fault! What's that about eh?" Ginny hit my arm, hard. Who knew she could pack a punch, I certainly didn't._

_ "I'm not going to bloody tell you now, you're abusive. I can't tell you, even if I wanted too. I wouldn't, I couldn't…do that to…her. I've done enough."_

_ "That's not an answer and you bloody well know it." She grumbled and I couldn't blame her. I would have grumbled too._

_ "I know. One day, some day maybe, you'll understand. You'll understand it all and you'll hate me for it and I'm not ready for that. I've spent my life being hated and it's…well quite honestly its nice not to be spit upon simply for walking down the street."_

_ "Hmm, well, I'll admit I'm bloody curious, but I'm not going to pry. What do I do now? Just give up then?"_

_ "No, Ginny," It felt strange using her first name, but it didn't feel right to call her anything else, not anymore, "you never give up. It doesn't matter if she never answers, she'll know you're thinking of her. She's Granger, eventually she'll come back. She won't be able to resist it."_

_ "You're alright, Malfoy." Ginny's head dropped to my shoulder and I didn't mind. She didn't smell like lemons and she wasn't as soft as Hermione, but it wasn't awful._

* * *

I remembered feeling absolutely gutted upon hearing of Granger's nuptials. I had lost her. I never had her, no matter how much I wanted her. I had lost what I never had, which made it that much worse. I wanted to drown myself in a tub of firewhisky, but I knew that wouldn't solve anything. I wish I knew what would solve the empty thud of my heart. I was lying to myself. I knew exactly what would solve it and I couldn't do a fucking thing about it. Firewhisky to the rescue!

My mother met me at the front door of the Manor the moment I arrived. She was flitting about, leading me directly to the parlor. Her hand was gripping my arm so tightly I couldn't have escaped even if I wanted too. I suppose that was exactly her intention, interfering bint.

"Draco, darling, I want you to keep an open mind. Your father wished to tell you right away of course, but I thought it best to wait until you were out of that boorish facility. She's a lovely witch, you'll see." I could hear Mother and I understood her words, and yet, I was unable to sift through the implications.

"I don't fucking care." It felt a bit strange to be honest with my mother. I hadn't been honest with myself since the moment I allowed my parents to drag me home. It felt liberating.

"Draco, why ever would you say such a thing?" My mother had a penchant for the dramatics and today was no different. I stopped short outside the double doors and stared into my mother's blue eyes.

"Mother, I lost the only person I've ever loved. I didn't even believe in the _concept_ of love until her. I didn't have to beg for her forgiveness for the things I'd done, for the things I was forced to do. She didn't care that I'm rich and a fucking pureblood. She loved me and I wasn't strong enough to stand up to you or to father and I've lost her. I'll never forgive myself for it. So, you run along and do whatever it is you wish to do. I'll marry whoever you choose and I won't care for her. I won't touch her. The Malfoy line will end with me." Mother gasped, her cheeks losing the little flush she maintained and I smiled.

It was hard to believe a witch existed who happened to be more disagreeable than Astoria Greengrass. She pitched a right fit to discover my parents had denied her father's petition. I almost wished they **had** chosen her, but no, instead I found myself saddled with Pansy Parkinson's baby sister. I didn't even know Pansy had a sister, until I met the bint on my wedding day. The only saving grace to this farce of a union was the simple fact she wasn't the least bit interested in me. She and I were alike in more ways than one. We both fancied women. It kept things easy.

Apparently my parents and the Parkinson's had been secretly planning that ridiculous farce of a wedding while I was with Granger. I wish I had known, I suspected Mother was up to something but after discovering she was married, what did it matter? It wasn't as if I had truly been paying a bit of attention to my surroundings.

Pixie had moved into the Manor, albeit in a different wing, before I ever came home. I'm still curious as to how my mother pulled that off. Oh how my family did love their secrets.

I had been married to Pixie (don't get me started on her ridiculous name) for less than a month when my parents began clamoring for grandchildren. It would have been nice if they had waited a year or never, but my parents were bloody impatient people. My father wanted what he wanted and he demanded a grandchild.

The idea of actually having intercourse with her was revolting. She wasn't bad to look at, I suppose. She was tall, with dark hair and light eyes, with a definite aristocratic air that I'm sure pleased my parents to no end. I supposed if I was still in Hogwarts, I would have given her a go, but after Granger, everything paled in comparison. I hadn't touched another witch since her and I didn't want to.

I hadn't known it was possible to feel so strongly for one person. My parents weren't exactly the shining beacon of example as far as affection. They were cold. They were always cold, with each other, with me. I never had a chance, did I?

My parents adored Pixie, so they could keep her. I had purchased a flat, secretly of course and slowly I began moving my belongings there. There wasn't a point to staying at the Manor. I didn't want to sit through anymore dinner parties. I didn't want to listen to the buffet of witches fawning over me as if I gave a shit they even existed. Playing the part was becoming too much for me, which would have amused Granger to no end. She would have mocked me I'm sure and I would have welcomed it. Her honesty was always such a breath of fresh air, even when I didn't appreciate it.

Pixie demanded we visit a Muggle Healer sometime in November. I'm not even quite sure if that's right. There was a definite chill in the air; of that much I'm certain. Regardless, the Muggle Healers said the same thing the Medi-witches said. I would never have to have intercourse with Pixie. I hated calling her my wife, but no matter. She had some sort of affliction. P-q-zed? I don't know, I don't care. It was a multitude of letters that meant nothing to me which basically meant Pixie wouldn't be able to conceive the Malfoy heir. There were other reasons as well, I simply stopped listening. Euphoria has a tendency to block out all unpleasantness around you, even if there are the occasional melodramatic false tears. What's done is done, even my parents couldn't be angry. It was their bed and they could lie in it.

I took to meeting Ginny for tea and sporadic lunches and we'd discuss Granger at length. I don't really know how it happened, but I became fucking friends with her. Can you imagine? I didn't invite her to my wedding or anything, though she had a few choice words for me. I didn't expect her to understand. I was desperately trying to let Granger go. I made a rash decision and believe you me I was paying for it.

Pixie believed I was having an affair. I don't think the idea of me shagging someone bothered her as much as she wasn't. Or perhaps she even had a small crush on the fiery ginger. Anything was possible with my bloody wife. She wasn't a bad person, she just wasn't the right person for me nor was I for her. We had an understanding I suppose. If she left me the fuck alone, I didn't tell The Daily Prophet she is a lesbian.

It was a few days prior to the New Year when I packed a bag. I knew I'd allow myself to be guilted back, but for this one evening, I needed to be free. I had drunk myself into oblivion, again. It was becoming quite the habit and I knew Granger wouldn't approve, but at the same time? Fuck her. She married a bloody Muggle. I hated her as much as I loved her.

Even though I was completely pissed, I threw my belongings in my battered Hogwarts trunk and wound up on Potter's doorstep. I knew I wasn't making a bit of sense and it was Ginny who finally settled me in their shabby little guest room for the night. Vaguely I remembered some snickering and an invitation to that Weasley excuse for a home, the Burrow.

The Burrow confused me, hurt my head a bit. Everyone was so bloody jovial, it was a bit terrifying. I'd never spent exorbitant periods of time with other wizarding families. The Malfoys were above such mundane things, unless of course there were Death Eaters. Those we'd accept with open arms and ruin our entire fucking lives and make our sons marry lesbians. Well done, Malfoys, well done.

They were a nice enough family, even if they are poor. It didn't seem to matter, they thrived on…Merlin forgive me, love.

"Malfoy, I heard you were a ferret once." The one eared tall ginger winked at me.

"I heard you had two ears once."

"You're alright, Malfoy." He patted me on the back, but it felt more like an assault and went into the kitchen.

It didn't take long for the rest of the Weasleys to warm up to me after receiving the George seal of approval. Once I explained to Potter I hadn't the slightest interest in his wife, we got on alright. I wasn't sure I'd ever be used to spending my evenings with a harem of Weasleys, but it was better than listening to Pixie bitch.

"I've heard pixies are horrid creatures." Ron snickered into his ale with his arm slung around Daphne Greengrass. I couldn't have predicted that matchup, but it seemed they got on well.

"They are. They're vile, argumentative, bitchy…"

"Blue…"

"Pixie isn't blue. She's a raging bitch, but she's not…oh, I see what you did there. Git."

"Malfoy, now that we're not all…attempting to murder each other…does your wife.."

"For the love of Merlin, Ronald, if you ask me about Pixie's prowess in the bedroom, I'll reconsider attempted murder."

"That bad then?" Daphne shoved Ron a bit, but I would have preferred it if he had toppled off the arm of the chair.

"If I answer this question truthfully, you're never allowed to refer to me as a ferret for the rest of your lives **and** we must go directly to the pub in order for me to wash my soul with firewhisky."

"Agreed!" Ron shouted. Daphne whispered something in his ear and from the blush on the tips of his ears; I knew he'd never make it to the pub.

"I've never touched her."

"Wait, you're married to her. I mean, how can you consummate it without…shagging her? How's that work?" Harry groaned while shrugging into a tweed blazer. He ignored Ron's question with a shake of his head. It was obvious the inebriated Weasley was on Potter's last nerve.

"Magic." I smirked, couldn't resist it really. Potter, Ginny and I went out the back door of the Burrow. Potter was grumbling about heading to the pub at this time of night.

"Come on then, Potter! It's my only night free of that blasted bint." I would have laughed, but it felt wrong. When we rounded the house, Potter stopped short, drawing his wand.

"Someone breeched the wards." I couldn't see a bloody thing, but I figured Potter was the Auror, might as well wait it out.

"Harry, it's the bloody Burrow. The wards are always being breeched, we're used to it." Ginny reached over and grabbed Potter's wand hand, shoving it to his side while she looked up the incline. She squinted a bit and swallowed, hard.

"H-Hermione?" I haven't the slightest how she was able to see a bloody thing. It was dark as pitch, but I didn't have a chance to say a word, she was tearing up that hill before I could blink. Potter was eerily calm which was the only reason I remained beside him and then I saw her.

It was only a glimpse, a quick one at that. The clouds faded in the distance, allowing the moon to shine upon the two figures clinging to each other. It took every ounce of my self control in order to keep my feet still. I wanted to be in the exact position Ginny was in. I wanted to cling to her, breathe her in and remember the feel of her against me, but I couldn't. I didn't have the right, not any longer.

Potter called out to his wife and she bloody well waved him off. I swear, she's the only witch who could demand Harry Potter fuck right off with a gesture. He saw her then, I could tell by the change in demeanor.

"Mione?" He tugged the sleeve of my cloak and there I was, trudging up that stupid incline with him. She looked…broken. I avoided looking at Ginny. I was terrified everything I was feeling was written plainly on my face and I didn't want her to see.

She saw me then, really saw me and she was on her feet in an instant. Her face was a mess, but it didn't matter. She was a beautiful disaster. She was stuttering, rambling even and I knew she was going to bolt.

"Hermione, wait." I hadn't known I was going to speak until it was already done and she flinched. Cringed really and my heart dropped, it was me. I had done this to her. She'd never forgive me for this. I'd never forgive myself. I could feel her magic in the air and I knew she was holding onto the barest thread of sanity. I couldn't concentrate on the scant words between her and Ginny. I couldn't stop myself from falling into her eyes, her beautiful, broken, haunted eyes. I blinked and took a shaky breath and she was gone.

"I lied Malfoy. You're not alright, you're a right bastard." Ginny slapped me then and I deserved it. Potter tried to rein her in, but she was right.

"Let her have at it, Potter." Potter shrugged, but he snatched her wand right from her tightly clenched fingers and ambled back down to the Burrow.

Ginny slapped, punched and even kicked me and I let her. I stood there and let her work out all her kinks until she hit her knees with great sobs. I didn't try to touch her. Ginny was a strong witch in more ways than one, but no one desires their weakness on display. Eventually she stopped, rocked back on her heels and sunk into the mud as if it didn't exist. She reached up, grabbed my hand and yanked me down beside her. I didn't have the gall to inform her that dirt was absolutely revolting. I waited.

"She was my first real female friend. I mean, I had Luna but that was different. Hermione well, she didn't like me much, but I was determined to win her over. She thought I was a stupid girl infatuated with The-Boy-Who-Lived and didn't really have a brain in my head. She wasn't wrong, but she made me want to prove myself. She made me want to be more than what everyone saw. I wouldn't be half the witch I am without her. I saw her spiraling, but I didn't know how to help her. I tried to be supportive, but I guess it wasn't enough. She's said it to me so many times, I almost stopped believing her. I thought it was a man. I thought some man had irrevocably broken her, but I dismissed that notion. No matter how distressed, ill, broken, Hermione Granger was, I never thought it would be a man to bring her to her knees, but I was wrong, wasn't I?" I couldn't look at her. I didn't want to look at her. I stared at Orion's ruddy belt and grit my teeth. Ginny shoved me and I almost tumbled down that ruddy hill, but I managed.

"We loved a lifetime." My voice broke and I wasn't going to make excuses.

"It wasn't enough." Ginny supplied and I could hear the tears in her voice.

"I know." I whispered and I looked to the sky to explain the droplets smattering my hands.

"It's not raining Malfoy, you're crying." She was being ridiculous. Malfoys do not bloody cry. We're entirely too well bred to do something as pedestrian as crying. "Go to her."

"I can't. I don't know where…I haven't the right…I.." Snippets of a conversation flowed through me. Her special place. Our special place. I knew exactly where she was, but how could I?

"I'll be right behind you."

* * *

It took me a moment to realise she was there. It was so bloody dark and I couldn't risk using my wand. There was a black mass beneath our tree and I sat beside it. It was entirely too cold for her to be lying upon the ground.

"Go away." It was obvious she was crying. I hated that she was crying. I hated that it was me who made her cry.

"Hermione, please." In retrospect, that wasn't the smartest thing I'd ever said. She was standing and screaming and the air was crackling with a terrifying display of untapped magic. And she was beautiful. And she used to be mine.

"Don't you dare. You don't get to use my name. You don't get to say 'Hermione please'. You've got your perfect little life, with your perfect little wife, and probably a perfectly blonde heir or two so you can fuck right off. You have no business interfering in **my** life!" She was right. From the outside looking it, it looked pretty fucking perfect. I didn't want any of it, I wanted her, but now wasn't the time to tell her.

"I..I thought you'd be alright." She laughed and it was such a horrid sound. It was harsh and grating and nothing like her. I honestly did think she'd be alright, eventually. She's Hermione Granger, how could she be anything less than bloody brilliant?

"One hundred points from Slytherin for sheer stupidity."

"You…you have to understand…" I sounded fucking pathetic, even to my own ears. I couldn't imagine what she was thinking. .

"Yes Malfoy, I know. You had obligations, familial obligations and it simply wouldn't do to disappoint dear old Death Eater dad by being involved with a Mudblood now would it?" Fuck. I hated that word. I hated that I had used it. She shoved me, hard and I stumbled. I realised I was angry. Really fucking angry. Sure, I'm an arse, but she moved on and she's bellowing at me? She had a lot of fucking nerve!

"You're the one that ran off and married that fucking Muggle!" Take that, bitch. Fuck her, how dare she?

"What's it matter? You're the one that made a point to tell me you didn't love me!" Oh shit. She was right. Of course she's right, bloody know-it-all-pain-in-my-arse-can't-get-her-out-of-my-head…fuck. I grabbed her then and I was shaking her. She didn't understand. It wasn't that she moved on. It wasn't that she was a complete fucking mess. She believed me. She fucking believed me and it hurt. It was stupid to think so, I'm aware, but I could't help it. I was being reckless. This was so fucking dangerous. I shouldn't even be here, but I couldn't bear it any longer.

"I. Fucking. Lied." There, take that. I didn't think her knees would buckle. I didn't think she'd crash into me and grip me so hard I lost the feeling in my arms. I couldn't move and I didn't want to. I wanted to be lost in a moment of time which never ended.

Granger sucked in the air as if she'd been deprived her entire life. It took a few moments for her to unclench her fingers, but I didn't mind. I don't know how it happened, but she was against me, really against me. My face was filled with her ridiculous curls and my hands were roving her back. She was mine and it was perfect.

When I think on that moment, I can't recall who kissed whom first, but does it really matter? We were beneath our tree and the air was bloody frigid. The chill in the air was almost unbearable, but then we were kissing and crying and falling to our knees.

How did I ever let her go? I couldn't do it again. I wouldn't. Fuck my father and his ridiculous demands. Fuck my mother and her ideals of a perfectly perfect pureblood way of life. I didn't want it. I didn't want any of it. They could keep it as long as I got to keep her.

It wasn't romantic and beautiful. It was rough, hard and filled with need. I was sure the bark was ripping her back to shreds, but she wasn't complaining. A flicker of shame washed through me as I rutted against her as if I were a randy teen, but it was quickly replaced with desire when she unzipped my slacks. Her hands were fucking ice cold, but I was never one to slink away from a challenge. I tasted the salty tears on her cheeks, chasing the rivulets to the nape of her neck, across the swell of her breasts. I should have been a gentleman and stopped her right there. I should have, but I didn't.

"Hermione…" I thought about it, that's got to count for something.

"No. Right here, right now, just like this." She was insistent, demanding and completely in control of this moment. The rest of her life was another story, but who was I to deny her? I felt as if it had been a lifetime from the last time I felt her. She was still so bloody beautiful and she hadn't the slightest idea, which just made her more so. Her skin wasn't as smooth as I remembered. There were ridges I didn't recall on her ribs, small bumps on her back and if I was in control of my faculties I would have commented on them. I couldn't think with her nonexistent nails raking my chest, her teeth biting my neck; hard. I attempted to return the favour, but she wouldn't have it.

"No. No marks, please, don't." She was practically climbing into my arms, using our tree as leverage. She was wearing a skirt. What was she thinking? It didn't matter because she maneuvered us just so and I was inside her.

"Fuck." I knew it wasn't going to last long, how could it? It'd been more than a year since the last time and I was true to her. One year, six months, twenty three days. She didn't know that bit, but I did, I knew. She was mewling and I couldn't keep from staring at her. She was different but the same. Perhaps the same could be said for me. She dug into my shoulders, and no matter how close we were, it wasn't close enough for either of us. She finally locked her arms around my neck, anchoring me to her as I felt her pulsing around me.

"I love you." I didn't care if she had married some fucking Muggle. I didn't care I had a stupid lesbian wife. I was consumed, addicted even and I wanted her, no, needed her to know exactly how I felt about her.

She didn't say a word. She patted my cheek and sighed. She removed her hands from my neck and I wanted to shout at her. I wasn't ready to let her go. I kissed her, hard and she kissed me back. I couldn't lose her, not again.

"Ginny's here." She whispered and she sounded so small and as hard as I tried she wouldn't look me in the eye.

"Hermione, stay, please stay. I can't lose you…not again." My father would be appalled at my behaviour. Malfoys didn't beg. Malfoys didn't love. Malfoys most certainly didn't cry and here I had done all of them in such a short space of time and I wasn't ashamed. I wasn't ashamed, not anymore.

"I've got three days. Two and a half now, took me entirely too long to gather the courage to go to the Burrow." She adjusted her clothing and kissed my cheek. I was panicking. How did I manage to survive without her? I'm bloody Draco Malfoy. I stood before fucking Voldemort and I'm crumbling before a girl?

I spied Ginny rounding the building and Hermione was walking away. She was leaving. I felt as though she was leaving **me**. I stood rooted to the spot. I couldn't breathe; I didn't want to breathe, not without her. Merlin is this how she felt when I left? Gods, how is she still standing?

"It isn't enough!" I shouted into the night and she stopped. She glanced over her shoulder and there was the barest hint of a smile on her lips.

"I know."


	5. The Beginning of the Storm - H

**AN: Warning - mature content ahead...*kisses***

* * *

Chapter Five – The Beginning of the Storm- H

* * *

Taylor hadn't touched me since the day we discovered I was pregnant; again. If that was the only way to save myself, so be it. That was a lie. I had it all planned. I had scurried away some money from his shoddy cheques on the guise of requiring things for the house. It was relatively easy to fool him in that manner.

He was so bloody angry when I was late returning from my visit with Ginny. It wasn't my fault, not really. Taylor had forgotten it was the eve of the New Year. I hadn't paid any mind to those sorts of things. They were completely unimportant to me. The only thing which mattered was my daughter. I hadn't rung in the New Year with Taylor. I was late. I was with Draco.

* * *

_"He's hurting you, isn't he?" Ginny hugged me so tightly and I responded in kind. I didn't answer, she didn't need me to. She knew the truth, whether I had spoken of such things or not._

_ We had spent our time talking, laughing and researching. Ginny didn't ask why I wanted the information I wanted and I loved her for it. She was suspicious. She wouldn't be Ginny Potter if she wasn't suspicious. The moments I didn't spend by her side, I spent with Draco. I knew it was wrong. I was only hurting myself, but I'd become so adept at it. Every day he asked me to stay and every day I denied him. He was yearning for me. He wanted me. He loved me._

_ I never spoke of my daughter. If I did, I would tell him and I couldn't wreck that havoc with his life. It wasn't fair. I was well aware it wasn't fair for him not to know, but he had a wife. He had a wife and I wasn't going to be the woman to ruin her life. It wasn't her fault I was in love with her husband. We were so fucking stupid. _

_ "Why do you need a Birthday Spirit?" Ginny immediately pressed her palm to his forehead. Draco was peering at our parchments, trying to shove off Ginny. "Quit it! I'm not ill. It's a valid question."_

_ "Birthday Spirit? I've never heard of such a thing. We're simply researching a Glamour Charm." Draco swallowed hard and I held my breath. He's brilliant, really brilliant. He would have beaten me in classes if he had put forth the effort._

_ "That's not what it's really called. My mother…after the war, uhm.." He cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable, but we weren't going to make it easier on him. He had information, we wanted it. "My father doesn't know, of course he doesn't, but Mother she well…"_

_ "Oh for fuck's sake Malfoy spit it out. We don't give two shits about your mother. Her secret is safe with us." Ginny's hands were on her hips and her face was reddening. I would have laughed if it wasn't so inappropriate._

_ "Alright, fine then. She's got some underground charity? I don't know what it's called, but she aids witches and even wizards protect the identity of their children from abusive spouses. It's brilliant really and there really was a pressing need for such an organisation. She discovered some notes in my godfather's belongings and developed this Birthday Glamour. It's a Potion and an incantation. It lasts a year and has…"_

_ "Does it have Blood Revelations?" I interrupted; I could barely contain my excitement. I was already trying to finagle myself an invitation for tea with Narcissa Malfoy._

_ "Does it matter?" Draco was frowning, staring at the Potion ingredients listed on the parchment which was a good thing. He missed the quizzical, narrowed glances between Ginny and me._

_ "Yes. It's pivotal."_

_ "I suppose I could ask her?" _

_ "Malfoy, just bloody invite us for tea." I heaved a sigh of relief. Ginny saw the desperation in my eyes and probably the excitement. It was my way out. I could do this if I could protect my daughter._

_ "I don't want to go to fucking tea with my mother! It's New Year's Eve. She's going to have some horrid party and she's going to demand I stay and I…"_

_ "I have to leave tonight." I had closed my eyes. I never saw him approach but he was there. I could feel his breath on my eyelids and I didn't want to see the angst in his stormy eyes. He was kissing me then and we were alone._

_ Why did he have to make it so difficult to leave him? I suppose that was part of his plan. I knew he had a plan. I'd caught him whispering with Harry and Ron enough times. Of course I noticed how abruptly the conversations ceased the moment I stepped into the room._

_ "Stay with me." It was so damn hard to deny him when he was strumming my body as if I were the finest violin._

_ "You have a wife. You could be happy. You could have a child." I didn't know the specifics of his relationship only because I refused to hear of it._

_ "You should be my wife. You should have my child." I almost told him then. 'I do', the words were right there, begging to be plucked from my lips, but I couldn't. Even if he didn't love his wife, he still had one, just as I had a husband._

_ "We had more than some." My thoughts immediately went to Tonks and Remus. We had more than them and that was something. _

_ "It isn't enough." He kept repeating it, over and over as we fell into each other, scattering parchment everywhere._

_ "It never is.."_

_ "I love you. I don't want to let you go. I will. I'll fucking hate it, but I'll do it for you. On one condition…" He refused to release me and I hoped Ginny had enough sense to leave us in peace. I'd hate for her to see Draco's naked arse on her dining table. I'm sure Harry wouldn't appreciate it in the least._

_ "Come on then?"_

_ "Spend New Years with me." He was hiding in my hair, the pale stubble on his chin tickling my ear._

_ "On one condition." I threw his ultimatum back in his lap. Two could play this game._

_ "Tea with my mother, alright, fine." He heaved himself onto his elbows, peppering my face with ridiculous kisses and I laughed. A real laugh and it was perfect and he was mine._

* * *

What is it about birthdays? Two years ago today, I was huddled in my mum's house bawling my eyes out, shaking a Muggle pregnancy test in the air. My mum was less than pleased, though I had a sneaking suspicion it was due to the flailing test soaked in urine than the actual pregnancy. She had assumed the baby was Taylor's and I hadn't corrected her. It wasn't worth it. I was wrong, but I was fragile. I'm still fragile and I probably always will be.

When I returned from the Burrow, he took me and took me hard. I was screaming and it wasn't from pleasure which only added to his passions. I was late. I was punished quite thoroughly. As I soaked in the tub that night, I studied the bruises littering my skin and shrugged. It was better than a beating. At least I had Muggle birth control, I hoped it was effective. The idea of having Taylor's spawn made me shudder in revulsion.

My daughter's first birthday was completely uneventful. Taylor got completely pissed at the local pub and Ginny sent the prettiest pink dress I'd ever seen. I wasn't expecting it. I was so completely overcome I vomited all over my dinner plate. Taylor was quite amused which segued into a stunning rendition of 'Let's Slap the Wife'. He apologised of course, but his words had long since lost their meaning.

"You need to quit all that racket. You're interrupting rugby." I had tied my hair back as I emptied the contents of my stomach once more. "Hey! Maybe I managed to knock up my own bloody wife. Imagine that." The very thought made me vomit again, but he wasn't wrong. It was a distinct possibility, as was the paternity. At least I had the Birthday Spirit this time.

Taylor was absolutely delighted when I surprised him. The Potion had worked perfectly. He decided a party for her birthday wasn't necessary. He didn't want to share her. He smothered her in kisses which she barely tolerated, but it made him happy. A happy Taylor I could manage.

I missed _him_ so much it ached, every moment of every day and there was no one to tell. Taylor had me on permanent lock down. He killed my owl so the possibility of sending a letter to anyone was as dead as my owl. Taylor insisted I needed a Nanny for the children. He swore by them. He told me embellished stories of his wonderful childhood and the Nanny which meant so much to him and his sister. He wasn't speaking of the parents he called mum and dad. He was telling me of his life before he became a murderer.

I hadn't stopped planning. I was still determined to leave, but I played the part of the dutiful wife so well, he never suspected. I wished I had my wand, but Taylor refused to budge. He watched me like a hawk, unless the Nanny was here. She was my saving grace.

Taylor hadn't the slightest clue he had hired a witch. She was terrified of Taylor and I didn't blame her. I knew she wouldn't be able to help me escape. She was older with a family of her own and she'd seen firsthand what Taylor was capable of doing to me, let alone her. Once a month I slipped a packet of photographs into her handbag and she sent them to Ginny.

Mara had gone home early that day and I was left alone with my daughter. I poured The Spirit down Carina's throat and waited. It broke my heart to watch the transformation, but I knew it was necessary. Her beautiful head of cascading blonde curls faded into a soulless brown. I cried as I pricked her finger and mine, swirling the blood together on our fingertips, until she looked exactly as she should.

Mara didn't live far from us and every time I sent her away with the packet, I hoped they'd come for me. They didn't and I started to lose hope. I thought Ginny would have told Draco by now. I truly believed the moment he knew the truth he'd look for me. He'd find me. The irony wasn't lost on me. Here I was, once considered the brightest witch of my age, unable to remove myself from a volatile situation. Here I was, waiting for someone to save me, because I couldn't save myself. I always thought I was strong. I always thought I could find my way out of anything, but I was wrong. I was the same as anyone else.

My mum always told me it was okay to need help, to ask for help. I hadn't listened to her then, I hadn't believed her then. I was young and stupid and thought I was invincible. Well, life was teaching me a lesson, wasn't it?

* * *

_"Draco!" Narcissa was downright giddy when we arrived. She embraced him. I wasn't aware Narcissa Malfoy knew the meaning of affection. Apparently Draco was of the same mind, as his eyes were widened with something akin to horror._

_ "Mum, I've brought guests." If my eyes weren't deceiving me, she wiped a fucking __**tear**__ from her eyes when he called her mum._

_ "Oh yes! Ms. Granger, Mrs Potter, pleasure I'm sure." Narcissa Malfoy smiled at me. I almost died. I'm not even bloody joking. My heart stopped, restarting quickly when Draco squeezed my hand. When had he grabbed my hand? Narcissa didn't even bat an eye at our intwined fingers; she waved us right inside Malfoy Manor. It was strange to see the Manor again. It was bright, absolutely breathtaking and filled with so much light; it didn't remotely resemble its former glory._

_ "Draco, you'll be most pleased to learn your wife is away. She'll be returning just after the New Year." She clapped her hands and a small brigade of house elves trotted forward with a full tea service. _

_My knees trembled and Draco immediately directed me to one of the high backed chairs around the imposing table in the center of the conservatory._

_ "Thank you for having us, Mrs. Malfoy." Ginny spoke for us, I still hadn't recovered. Draco pressed the palm of his hand against my forehead, pressing a goblet of ice water into my shaking hands. My pitiful excuse for a wedding band clinked against the glass, drawing Narcissa's shrewd eyes._

_ "The pleasure is mine, rest assured. Draco informed me you have a bit of interest in my little cause?" I nodded slowly, studying the floral pattern on the tablecloth. "I apologise Ms Granger, Draco neglected to inform me you're married." _

_I cleared my throat and swallowed. I wasn't going to play this game, not with her. I was quite adept when it came to closing myself off. I took a steady breath, blinked hard and stared into her blue eyes. Ginny gasped, but I ignored her. She'd never seen his part of me. Draco rubbed my shoulder blades and while it was soothing, I refused to falter._

"_It's quite alright, Narcissa. I wouldn't expect you to be kept apprise of my personal life. It's not as if we associate in the same social circles is it? I didn't take my husband's name." I quirked an eyebrow in defiance. Her lips twitched before pursing and her eyes? They were bloody laughing._

"_What of your children?" Draco groaned, his lips instantly against my ear with a whispered 'sorry'._

"_What of them? I wouldn't wish to do them a disservice, now would I?" _

"_Game. Set. Match." Ginny murmured, pouring herself a glass of sparkling white wine. It was obvious Draco was used to his mother behaving this way. It didn't surprise me. She was in fact, the matriarch of the Malfoy Family. She knew things Lucius would never know, if I had anything to say about it._

"_I assume you're here to inquire about The Spirit?" Narcissa winked at me! This was too much. I wasn't prepared to deal with such madness._

"_Why does Malfoy call it the Birthday Spirit?" Ginny ignored the silent power play between mother and son. I was running out of time and while she didn't know the specifics of my need, she was willingly jumping into the fray with me. Merlin, I love her._

"_He's an imbecile." Narcissa half shrugged, her eyes slits._

"_Mum! Wait, where's Father?" Draco listened for the tell tale signs of his father in the Manor yet heard nothing._

"_The dungeon. I warned him, Draco. I warned him plenty of times. He's so ridiculously stubborn, you know how men are.." Narcissa nodded knowingly toward Ginny and me, "he was adamant. Therefore he's locked in the dungeon, wandless until he comes to his senses."_

"_You're alright, Mrs. Malfoy." Ginny grinned widely as I snorted. I was almost impressed._

"_Draco, I believe the women folk need to have a few moments, why don't you visit with your father?" Draco practically leapt from his seat to hurry from the room, but he stopped, spun on his heel and kissed me hard. He ran his fingers through the remnants of my hair and smirked._

"_I like it." I had Ginny hack off my lustrous curls. It was quite freeing. I thought I'd completely despise it, but I didn't. I was quite fond my pixie cut. I didn't understand the irony when Ginny guffawed and Draco looked downright murderous._

"_I suspected you were the girl. I must begin by informing you, whatever is said here will remain confidential. I have as much to lose as anyone."_

"_The girl?" I said stupidly. I didn't want to play this game with her. _

"_Let's end the charade shall we? The girl my son is…dare I say…in love with. The girl who makes his mouth do that silly little thing called smiling. The girl that brings him to life. I've missed him you realise. I acted rashly when I removed him from that Muggle facility. He was better, he was getting better and I believe it was due to you. Do not insult my intelligence to tell me how very wrong I am. I know my son and I'd do anything for him. The same can't be said for his father however, which is why we have dungeons in the first place. Marvelous invention." Narcissa's gaze lingered on the bewilderment I was sure was quite apparent and simply waited._

"_I'm in desperate need of a Glamour Charm with Blood Revelations." There, I'd said it. It had been much easier than I thought it would be. I avoided Narcissa's thinly veiled questions to get to the heart of the matter. I didn't have time for idle chatter._

"_It is most fortunate for you, Ms Granger I happen to be in possession of your exact request. Do not inquire as to the maker, I shall not reveal it. Our entire organisation relies upon anonymity quite heavily. I'm sure you understand."_

"_Why?" My throat was sticking shut. I didn't want to trust her, but what choice did I have?_

"_Why? Why am I in possession of an obscure Potion? Why do I choose to aid the less fortunate after my family's affiliations? Why am I choosing to help you? You must be more specific."_

"_Yes." I wanted all of the answers. I didn't want to be constricted by specifics._

"_I had a daughter. It's a little known secret. I was young and foolish. She was conceived before I was promised to Lucius, of course. If I had known, I wouldn't have, but there was no way of knowing. Lucius was over the moon. When she was born, Lucius was away on business. She looked exactly like her father. I knew I could never pass her off as anything less than what she was. I implored Severus to come to my aid. In a relatively short period of time, the Spirit of the Birthday was created. I'm aware its name is quite ridiculous. The Spirit is laced with Blood Revelations. It concealed her for ten years. I was expecting Draco and Lucius took me away on holiday. Her birthday fell in the midst of our trip and I left the vial in my vault. Lucius was quite understanding. He loves me. He'd forgive me anything. Her father on the other hand, was not. He was married to a particularly nasty pureblood witch. She gave him a son, but he was a squib. She knew about Lyra. She's the reason Draco is unhappily married to Pixie. She threatened to expose me. Lucius is quite tolerant these days, yet he couldn't face the scandal. We agreed, of course we agreed. Malfoys might be arrogant but we're cowards."_

"_What happened to her?" I was riveted. Narcissa Malfoy was sharing the skeletons in her closet with me._

"_His son was furious to discover his father had another child. It was silly really. He had younger sisters, but he was the oldest. Lyra was younger than him as well; yet not enough to appease him. Her father was forced to marry that bint after the paternity of her child was established you see. Taylor was, well he couldn't have been more than twelve." Taylor's a common name, isn't it? It is among Muggles. Narcissa couldn't be speaking of…no; it was ridiculous, wasn't it?_

"_Lyra was almost eleven and she was so excited with the very prospect of attending Hogwarts. She adored Draco and he gravitated toward her. He took his first steps to his big sister. Ramses brought Taylor to the Manor. He was furious I had kept Lyra from him. 'You see', he said. 'That's your bastard sister'. Lucius and Ramses dueled and Lyra ran into the garden. She adored Lucius. Taylor snatched her, dragged her away. I couldn't reach them in time. I held her during her last breaths. He crushed her larynx among other things. There are some things even magic is unable to heal. Ramses flew into a rage. He beat Taylor to within an inch of his life. He said Taylor didn't deserve to be punished with magic as he's a useless squib. He sent Taylor away. Apparently there were a few Muggles in the Johns family tree. Well, the Parkinson family tree really, but after that day…Taylor was a Johns." And that was when I passed out._

_It was a dream. It wasn't real. I hadn't married the Squib that murdered Draco Malfoy's sister. It was a nightmare, that's the only explanation. Damn my vivid imagination._

"_Is she alright? I hadn't meant to upset the poor girl." Well, shit. I felt a cool cloth on my forehead a soft breeze cooling my skin. _

"_She doesn't talk about her husband, ever. She married him pretty quickly. She met him after she was released from a Muggle facility and less than a month later, she married him. She's never told me his name, not outright, but she talks in her sleep." Oh no. I could feel my heart racing and I wondered how much I had said._

"_He hurts her. She fell asleep while we were working on the Potion. She's completely drained. Malfoy barely let her out of his sight, but Harry dragged him outside for a breather. He really loves her. Her head just flopped right onto the table. She wasn't asleep for very long when she started screaming. 'Taylor, no, don't'. I woke her. I couldn't listen to the…terror. I've tried to convince her to stay, but she refuses." I felt puckered lips on my forehead and I knew it was Ginny. I opened my eyes slowly, pretending I hadn't heard a word. It was better that way._

"_Ms. Granger, I apologise. I often forget it's a difficult history."_

"_It's fine. What time is it?" I bolted up from the safety of the settee. I couldn't talk about Taylor. I wouldn't. I couldn't be late._

"_You're alright. You're safe here." I pushed Ginny away, glowering. How dare she make presumptions? She wasn't wrong, but that wasn't the point. I'd never feel safe without my daughter. I might never feel safe regardless._

"_While you were incapacitated, I healed your ribs. I hope you don't mind." I took a deep breath and almost smiled. It didn't hurt to breathe. It had become this ever present constant. I had forgotten what it felt like to take a full breath._

"_Thank you." Narcissa's face was conspicuously blank as she reached into the folds of her pastel pink robes. She withdrew four vials filled with a murky purple liquid. "The Spirit works on adults as well. The first dose must occur on the birthday in question. Severus believed one's magic was strongest on the day of their birth. There are enough here for one witch or wizard for four years or two witches or wizards for two years. I never provide this quantity. I've never gifted more than two vials, but I have a sneaking suspicion this is a very special circumstance. Use it well." I couldn't stop myself, I hugged her. She didn't remain stiff nor remove my Mudblood limbs from her person. She held me close, allowing me to cling to her._

"_Thank you, thank you, thank.."_

"_Mother? Is Hermione alright?" Draco's pinched brows were almost comical, and it was all I could do to rush into his arms._

"_She's simply exhausted dear." Ginny ran her fingers through my nonexistent hair and Narcissa patted my hand. Draco frowned and I knew he wasn't sure if he should believe them, but in the end he shrugged and sat beside me._

"_Mum, are you entertaining this evening?" It felt completely natural to have Draco's arm draped around my shoulders and it made me wish I was holding our gurgling daughter in my lap. I felt complete, yet I knew it was yet another flitting emotion I'd have to leave behind. _

"_I have your father detained in the dungeon. I do believe it would be most uncouth to celebrate his self imposed incarceration."_

"_Self imposed? I visited him down there. He's a bit mental. He insists I inspect the Malfoy Genealogy Tree. I wasn't aware he set foot into that room since I was a child."_

"_Do not concern yourself with his chatter. He knows exactly what he's done, what he's said and he'll remain in the dungeon until I'm satisfied he's repentant and I refuse to speak of it further." I could feel Narcissa's eyes on the back of my head, but I was determined to ignore her. It was difficult, but not impossible._

_It was easy to lose myself here. If I didn't have the incessant niggling worry where my daughter was concerned, I would have stayed. I would have gladly stayed. I would have tossed aside every iota of pride and allowed myself to crash into him. I would be the other woman. I would steal moments with him whenever necessary. I would hide our relationship from the public eye. I would do anything, anything at all, if he were mine._

_I was surprised when the grandfather clock chimed the hour. I was almost out of time. Ginny could sense my trepidation and stroked the side of my face._

"_Enjoy every moment." She pulled me up by my arms and bumped my shoulder. I allowed Draco to lead me from the parlor. I focused on the sensation of his hand in mine as walked up flight after flight of stairs._

"_These were my rooms." Before I could take in the rich splashes of colour, he was pressing me into the four poster bed with insistent lips and soft caresses. I didn't mind, no, I didn't mind one bit._

* * *

Taylor was on a binge. I knew he was segueing from alcohol into something darker, but as long as he left me alone, I didn't mind. I was almost certain he was having an affair, but like I said…

My mum insisted on reminding me of my foolishness. She was right, but I wasn't willing to admit it. After a rousing rendition of 'I thought you learned your lesson the first time', I knew better than to seek comfort from her. I wasn't exactly pleased with discovering I was pregnant. It ruined all of my plans. I had the money in my Gringott's account but I had no way to get to my vault. Taylor made sure of that. We were too far from the Wizarding World.

Ginny kept sending me owls. Draco tried, in the beginning, but I sent them back. I always sent them back, except the first one. I kept that one and read it so many times the parchment was worn and faded. It wouldn't be fair to respond to them, to keep their hopes up when my mind were so firmly ground into dust I was barely hanging on.

Taylor had insisted the cottage was inappropriate for the raising of two children. He puffed like a peacock when we learned we were having a son. I felt the bile rise in my throat. He'd never let me go now. He didn't move us back to London like I expected. He quite enjoyed keeping me secluded.

Falmouth wasn't horrid, it was just, it wasn't home. I don't know how he managed it, but the owls stopped coming. As a Squib it's not as if he could use my wand, but our new house was impenetrable. He never let me use my wand anymore and I couldn't remove the wards. I could feel them, but there was only so much I could do without a wand and he damn well knew it. I was trapped, more than I'd ever been before and that was saying quite a lot considering I fought in the war.

I wasn't as careful as I should have been. I couldn't help myself. It wasn't that the letter was so long and filled with promises, it wasn't. It was short, sweet, to the point and incredibly him. My daughter was down for a nap and I was sitting in the small garden, begging Nature for warmer weather.

"What the fuck is that?" Taylor tore it from my fingers, ripping the corner. I hadn't heard him. He had been sneaking about, amusing himself greatly whenever I squealed in fear.

"It's nothing, just an old letter. I had forgotten it was in my pocket is all." I didn't bother to smile, it was pointless. I knew the look in his eye as well as I knew the scars upon my body.

I thought I'd be safe for a little while. He hadn't touched me when I was carrying my daughter. It was easy to assume the same rules still applied, but this was Taylor. The rules were constantly changing and it was exhausting trying to keep up with them. His favourite game was still 'Let's Slap the Wife', but it hadn't manifested into something more since Taylor learned I was having his son. I refused to even attempt to convince myself the child was his; I was still clinging to the last remnants of ridiculous hope that once more the child was Malfoys. It didn't make it easier, not really, to entertain such notions, but I'd rather be tied to a man I could never have than a man who used me as his personal punching bag.

"You're a liar. This isn't an old letter."

"Please, let me have it." Apparently my mouth and my brain had decided to work against each other and my hands flew to cover my mouth the moment I heard the words.

"Let you have it? Oh, I'll let you have it you deceitful lying whore. I've got to have my bit of fun first though haven't I? Shall I read it aloud for you? Would that make it better? After all, I can't very well punish you without you knowing why." Taylor laughed, but it wasn't a jovial laugh. How could it be? No, it was a laugh with a promise of the horror to come and oh how I knew it well.

"My love," Taylor began with a sneer. "What, he can't be bothered to learn your name? Shows how much you mean then eh?" He waved the letter inches from my face and my nails dug into my palms.

"Get on with it then would you?!" He wasn't expecting that, I never shouted at him.

"My love: Watching you leave was harder than anything I've ever done. Harder than listening to my father's ridiculous notions. Harder than surviving Voldemort in my home. Harder than leaving you the first time. You're under my skin and I'm unwilling to dig you out. I'll never let go. I'll never give up on you. I'll never stop loving you. I'll prove you wrong. One day, when I tell you I love you, it will be enough." Taylor faltered for a moment, almost as if he couldn't imagine ever saying such words or loving someone that much. "He…is he…" I knew what he was asking, stumbling over, struggling with but the words refused. It was unimaginable to admit the truth to him of all people. "Where is your brat?" Taylor snarled, his light eyes so dark they were almost black. I barely recognised him and then I was running.

* * *

_ "Hermione, you could stay. We could tell Harry, he'd protect you. He's a bloody Auror, it's about time he's earned his keep." Narcissa stayed eerily silent while Ginny begged me to stay. Draco hadn't said a word, he simply held me as if he'd never let me go._

_ "I wish it were that simple, Gin, truly I do. You know I wouldn't go back if I had a choice." Narcissa understood, I knew she did. She could see it in my eyes._

_ "Let her go." Narcissa stroked Ginny once across the back, which had the desired effect. Ginny wiped her face as the clock chimed._

_ "Happy New Year." I wish Draco hadn't sounded so bitter. I ran my fingers through his hair, tugging lightly, imploring his lips to mine. He didn't disappoint. It didn't matter that it was our last moments. It didn't matter his mother was present. None of it mattered; it was only us, grasping the last straws of each other._

_ "I know I said I wouldn't ask again, but I'm a liar. You know I'm a liar. Hermione, please, I'm fucking begging you. I've never begged for anything. I'll divorce her. I don't care if it's a blight on the Malfoy name. We'll have children together, the way it should have been. I don't think…I don't think I can make it without you, Granger." I refused to cry. I have spilled enough tears to last a lifetime. I took his hands in mine, removing them from my face and held them against my chest._

_ "Draco, you don't know how much I wish I could. I __**have**__ to go. I don't expect you to understand. I don't expect you to forgive me. I don't expect you to wait for me. I'm simply asking you to let me go, please." I tossed the strap of my handbag over my head, secured the vials in the pocket and removed my wand._

_ "Son, you must. Ms. Granger, he's being particularly stubborn this evening. I'll escort you to the gate; you can Apparate safely from there as my son has instituted Anti-Apparition wards inside the Manor."_

_ "Draco!" I lost it then. Taylor punished me when I was late. I wasn't there to punish, which left only my daughter. It didn't matter if I was a minute late or an hour, the punishment was the same. He did love to slap._

_ "Hermione, I can't."_

_ "You must! Don't you understand?!" I was running then. The bloody gate was miles from the Manor. I could hear the footsteps pounding after me, but I didn't stop, I didn't even slow down. I flung open the door to the Manor and gasped as the cold rain splattered down upon me. Draco caught me about the waist at the bottom of the stairs._

_ "Wait, Hermione."_

_ "I can't! Don't you understand?! I HAVE to go! I don't want to go! I want to stay with you. I love you, but I can't! He'll hurt her if I stay! He'll hurt her and it'll be my fault! MY FAULT!"_

_ "Hurt who? I don't…"_

_ "GINNY!" The wind was swirling around me and the wind was whipping at my face and I was struggling against the safety of Draco's arms. Narcissa braved the weather to stand behind her son. She wrapped her arms around him and stroked my face._

_ "Let go, Draco. Let her go."_

_ "I can't watch her leave."_

_ "Then don't, darling. Kiss her and tell her, until we meet again. Malfoys never say goodbye." Draco's hair was plastered to his head and I couldn't tell if he was crying or if it was the rain. He kissed me and it was so soft, I shattered into a thousand pieces._

_ "I love you. I don't care what you say; I'm not going to stop. I can't. Come back to me. I don't care how long it takes. We'll love a lifetime, together and then it'll finally be enough."_

_ "I know. I know, me too. I swear it." He held me once more, breathing me in, before he spun on his heel, retreating inside the Manor._

_ "Hermione, I love you, I'll miss you. I'll keep an eye on him." I knew she would. I trusted her with my secrets and with my life. It was time to entrust Narcissa with the same. _

_ "I want you to have this. Don't…don't show it to him. He'll look for me and I can't have that. Keep it safe." I pulled the Muggle photograph from my back pocket and pressed it into her palm, nodding at the Matriarch. _

_ "Merlin, Hermione, she's…she's…oh my gods."_

_ "I'd do anything for her. Anything at all, even return to a monster."_


	6. Truths - D

**AN: Let's just consider this chapter the calm before the storm...*kisses***

* * *

Chapter 6 – Truths - D

* * *

It had been months since I'd seen her and I felt as if I were going mad. That blasted ginger wouldn't tell me a thing. She simply kept saying 'all in due time'. That's lovely, what the fuck does that mean? I'd meant what I said on New Years. I was tired of hiding, tired of pretending. I wanted her. I wanted her months ago and I wanted her now. I would always want her. I was tired of being a fucking coward. I would prove to her and to me…it would be enough.

I laid the cards on the table with Pixie and she was incredibly agreeable. She'd been having a secret affair with Daphne Greengrass since before we ever married, which was news to me. I thought Weasley was dating Greengrass, but the longer I thought about it, the more I discovered I didn't care in the least. Pixie was more than amenable to my demands. She considered putting up a fuss but in the end, she and I both knew she hadn't a loving bone in her entire woman eating body, at least not for me. She wound up with a disgustingly large amount of galleons in her personal vault and I had effectively earned my freedom.

My father spent an entire month in the dungeons before finally admitting defeat and apologising to my mother profusely. She was wary, but she loved him. It was one of the best moments of my life watching him grovel. Comical really, but it would have been absolutely mad to comment upon it.

He was furious at the dissolution of my marriage but after an arched eyebrow and a mention of returning to the dungeon, he kept his opinions to himself for the most part, until today.

"I'm simply attempting to understand your rash decision, Draco. Pixie is a delightful witch. There hasn't been a divorce in the Malfoy line in over a century." It amused me to see my father so nervous. His voice lowered at every floorboard creak. It was hilarious to witness him so out of sorts.

"Father, you must realise I've devoted my entire life to you, Mother and **your** cause. I didn't put up a fuss; I blindly followed as a good Malfoy always should. I married the witch of **your** choice and she's a bloody lesbian. I began to wonder, when is it exactly that a Malfoy is allowed to determine their own path? According to you, the answer is never and that's unacceptable to me. I know Mother has forbidden you to speak of our Ancestry Tree and I'm not willing to face her wrath anymore than you are, but I must admit I'm curious. I fell in love with a woman and I lost her, twice now and I'm keeping track. She's important to me. She'll always be important to me and…"

"Why did you not speak of this before the arrangement was made? Your mother and I we could have…"

"Father, you never would have accepted her with your pureblood ideologies."

"I would have tried, Draco." I liked seeing my father uncomfortable. He was lying, it was obvious he was lying, yet he wasn't aware.

"Hermione Granger, Father. Care to change your tune?" I smirked over my goblet of wine. His eyebrows rose, his cheeks were bright pink, his lips were pursed and tension was rolling off him in waves, but he didn't glower at me. He didn't threaten to disown me. He didn't refer to her as a Mudblood. He sighed, downed his glass of brandy and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Why her?" I watched his Adam's apple bob, belaying his calm.

"She was with me in that Muggle facility. She was there for much longer than I was. It was completely ridiculous for us to be there. They couldn't help us. They couldn't possibly understand what we were going through and there comes a point where you don't want to pretend. I didn't want to pretend. I didn't want to go through the motions and make up pretty little stories so as not to scare the Muggles. How the fuck was that going to help me? How was it going to help her? It wasn't, it didn't. **She** helped me. She didn't condemn me, like she could have. She didn't dismiss me, like she could have. She didn't hate me, like she should have."

"She was…accepting?" I felt myself nodding slowly, waiting for his shock to abate. "You…love…her" He spat the word 'love' as if it were a disease, rather than an all encompassing emotion. "Is it because she was accepting?"

"I love her because…" I paused for a moment, picturing her smile, remembering her laugh, the feel of her lips on mine. "She's never demanded an apology and refused it when I offered. She allowed me to sit beside her in complete silence. She never once judged me, even when I lied to her. I couldn't ask for more than that. I wouldn't want more than that. She makes me feel…like, it was all worth it. Every horrid thing I ever said, I ever did, every mistake I ever made...it was all worth it, if she was there at the end."

"Draco, send for your mother. I wish to have afternoon tea with her in the parlor." My father turned his back on me. He might never accept her, but I'd said my peace and that was what mattered most.

I was glad I had become civil with the one eared Weasley. Those Extendable Ears came in bloody handy when it came to my family. Mother and Father might have warded the door in order to keep me from bursting in on them, but they hadn't cast a Silencing Charm.

"Must you be so difficult, Narcissa?!"

"Don't make me regret freeing you from the dungeons Lucius!"

"Answer me. Is she his?!"

"When have you **ever** known the Malfoy Ancestral Genealogy Tree to bloody LIE?" I could make out the sounds of breaking glass. Mother was really quite angry with Father.

"Is he aware?" Dammit, I wish they'd stop pacing around the room; it was difficult to hear them.

"Of course not! Wild horses wouldn't be able to keep him away from her if he did. He'd chase her to the ends of the earth."

"He really loves her." Oh, Hermione, they're arguing over Hermione?

"Of course he does you blithering fool. He's a Malfoy. When have you ever done anything halfway?"

"Where is she then? Why is she not here?"

"She's in Cornwall. I've been taking tea with Ginevra Weasley. She's quite pleasant, for a Weasley, well she's a Potter now." What the **fuck** is going on?

"My son is in love with a Mu-Muggle-born and he's friends with the Potter's and Weasley's. Sweet Merlin, I need a drink." I did appreciate the fact Father refrained from referring to Hermione as a Mudblood. Perhaps there was hope for the bastard.

"Lucius, there's no need to be so dramatic. Draco has done his duty; he married the witch you chose. It's not his fault she was unable to conceive. So what if our grandchildren are halfblood? I'm sure they'll be brilliant." Are my parents really planning my future with Hermione Granger? This couldn't be happening. Why did Mother know where Hermione is and why didn't she tell me?

"Just the girl so far, but I have a sneaking suspicion the boy shall be as well." Who are they talking about? What girl? I'm an intelligent bloke, why can't I piece together their cryptic conversation?

"Narcissa, why is she in Cornwall instead of with our son?"

"There's a small matter of…her husband."

"My son is having an affair with a married Mu-Muggle-born? Delightful." The sarcasm was palpable, no surprise there.

"Her husband was a vile boy. Surely you can recall Taylor Johns, Lucius." Taylor Johns why did that sound so familiar? Why was my mother so upset and my father sucking his teeth?

"He abuses her. We don't have definitive proof, besides a smattering of bruises on her abdomen and an improperly healed rib, but the poor girl is terrified. She visited and I found her quite enthralling. She wanted to stay so desperately, yet it was impossible. I gave her a few vials of The Spirit on the off chance she could free herself from him."

"If she wished to stay, why did she return to that blight on humanity?" Only my father would use such an elegant phrase to describe a piece of shite.

"Lucius, must you be so dense? Her daughter of course. He had her daughter; you can't expect her to leave the child behind." Holy shit, Granger has a kid? She never said…wait. That can't be right. I can't be right. She would have told me, wouldn't she? I mean…

"She's quite pretty." Mother must have a photograph. Why haven't I seen it? "What's the child's name, Cissy?"

"Carina." I couldn't think. I couldn't stand. I couldn't breathe.

* * *

I felt betrayed. Granger had a child, my child and I knew nothing about it. I didn't know how old she was. I didn't know what she looked like. I didn't know anything other than her name.

Why the fuck had Granger married that fucking Muggle when she was pregnant with **my** child?! Oh, wait. I remember, because I'm a right bastard. I lied to her. I left her. I really didn't leave her with any options did I? Well done, Malfoy, well done.

Why hadn't she told me while she was visiting? That was the question which was giving me the most difficulty. I would have…what would I have done? I would have stormed Cornwall like I was psychotic, put my daughter in danger and Hermione would have never forgiven me if anything had happened. No wonder she didn't tell me. I'm an arse.

I needed to speak with Ginny. She might not know much more, but I needed grounding. Sweet Merlin, what in the fuck is wrong with my life when I turn to a bloody Gryffindor for help, on purpose. I didn't even bother sending an owl. I rifled through my pockets until I came up with my wand and Apparated.

"Tell me about Carina." I didn't even bother saying hello, we were past such formalities. Ginny's broad smile was a bit disarming; I don't think I'll ever get used to it. She dragged me into Grimmauld Place, immediately shoving me into a small sitting room. She flung open a roll-top desk, sifting through envelopes until she found what she was searching for.

"Finally! Bloody hell I've waited for this moment for months!" She thrust a packet of photographs into my hand. "Carina is so beautiful. I can't wait until you meet her. You'll love her immediately; I mean how could you not? She looks eerily similar to you, except for her eyes. She has her mother's eyes…"

"What the fuck are you going on about, Ginny?" I was staring at my daughter. Hermione had kept impeccable records, albeit in picture form. The day she was born, her first smile, her first bath, they were all there. I couldn't process all this information. Not only did I have a daughter, it was hard to deny it when looking at her, but Ginny and my parents knew before me? What. The. Fuck.

"Oh shit." Yeah, oh shit was right. Ginny backed away from me slowly as I hadn't even realised I'd advanced on her. She held her hands out, almost as if she was offering supplication, but I wasn't biting.

I was breathing hard, too hard. It was hard to focus on anything, it was hard to see. I kept trying to draw breath but the air was so thick. My head started to pound and I felt Ginny take my arm and lead me to a shabby green sofa.

"Harry!" I didn't make it. My knees buckled and slammed onto the hardwood floor. There was a psychedelic symphony of colour blasting behind my eyelids. The stabbing pain shot through my forehead, until it completely encompassed my skull. I could feel myself falling forward, but my arms refused to obey my commands. I couldn't feel them, I couldn't feel anything and I was thankful when the darkness closed in.

"Ginny! Did you kill Malfoy? I always knew he was more trouble than he was worth. D'ya know how much paperwork you've created for me?" Fucking Potter, selfish Potter, to the assumptions.

"Harry, you're such an arse. You've been spending too much time with Ron. He's such a bad influence on you. This is why I need Hermione. She's the only one who could knock some sense into you lot, though why she wasted her time is beyond me. It's obvious you're beyond help. Git. Give me the draught and get out. Take the boys with you, I don't wish to see you." I would have smirked and probably said something incredibly scathing, but as I didn't have complete control of my limbs, that obviously wasn't going to happen. I was almost sad, until I remembered Carina.

She remembered, I can't believe she remembered. It was one conversation, something said in passing and she held onto it tight in that bloody know-it-all brain of hers. I hated her, but I loved her. I wondered if there were photographs of Carina with Hermione. I wasn't quite sure I could handle it, how it would feel, but I wanted, no, I needed to know.

"I think he's coming around."

"I don't understand why you asked for me." I didn't recognise the voice, it was feminine and nervous.

"I couldn't very well owl Narcissa now could I? She'd have my head!" Ginny really needed to learn the difference between an inside voice and screaming banshee.

"Well deserved from what I see."

"Oh shut it and pour some draught in him eh?" Every time I cracked my eyelids the symphony resumed. It was irritating frankly and if it didn't stop soon, I was going to empty the meager contents of my stomach all over Ginny's despicable sofa. Come to think of it, Malfoy vomit might increase its appeal. Who the fuck makes these Potions? They taste like fucking hippogriff piss and bogies.

"Oh you're a cheeky bastard for an invalid aren't you?" Wonderful, apparently I speak aloud without noticing. "Don't try to open your eyes, not yet. Wait for the draught to do its work and you'll be right as rain."

"I want…I need.." My lips were as sluggish as my brain and neither was cooperating. I was so tired. I didn't wish to think anymore, I only wanted…"Hermione."

"What a lovely little girl." Whoever she was, was touching my photographs, she was looking at my daughter. "Yours I presume, of course she looks just like you. No denying her parentage. You must be so proud."

"Dromeda no, stop! He doesn't…" I started hyperventilating then.

* * *

_(Six Weeks Later)_

I didn't remember much of the next few weeks, but I remembered her. She haunted me. Hell at this point, I haunted myself. I really was quite a pathetic fellow. I tried to untangle my thoughts by writing them in a journal, but in the end, the only helpful bit of information I uncovered was a timeline. It wasn't important to anyone else, but I needed it in order to function.

_\- January – Muggle Facility_

_\- February – I speak with her_

_\- April – I love her_

_\- June – I leave her &amp; she's pregnant_

_\- September – She marries the fucking Squib_

_\- February – Carina_

_\- December – I begged her_

_\- January &amp; February– She returned every fucking owl._

_\- March – My parents were arguing in the parlor and I visited Ginny…_

I couldn't press beyond those few moments in March. My Healer says I shouldn't attempt it. He says it's some sort of defence mechanism. He's probably right, but I also think he's a bit of a wanker, though I could do without the bouts of blinding pain.

They don't talk about her anymore, at least not around me. I tried to eavesdrop but it's fucking impossible. George, finally learned that bastard's name, won't let me have anymore Extendable Ears. I don't even know what day it is, not anymore. I suppose it doesn't mean anything. I feel as if I'm fading away and perhaps I am. I'm trying to care, about a lot of things actually, but I feel as though something is missing. In the beginning, I thought it was her, but it's more than that.

I dream of a beautiful little girl. She's running in a field of wildflowers. Her blonde hair is glinting in the sunlight and it's almost blinding. She's squealing and running from…well from me, I think. She keeps looking over her shoulder, as if she's making sure I'm still chasing her. I love it when I dream of her. I know, in my heart of hearts, its Carina and I know, she's what I'm missing. And I fall a little bit deeper into the hole I've dug myself.

"Where is Draco?" I was entirely too intoxicated to answer such a question. I was lying on the floor in the library, behind my father's desk. It wasn't intentional, mind you; I attempted to sit and missed the chair completely. It was entirely too much effort to rectify the situation. Vaguely, I wondered why my mother was asking for me, but I didn't care enough to move.

"I haven't seen him." Ugh, fucking Potter. I'm obviously in the midst of a nightmare. I can't imagine a single scenario which would involve my mother and Harry fucking Potter having a spot of tea in the library.

"Lucius said he saw him in the garden." Lucius is a fucking liar and oh hello Blaise, please get the fuck out of my house. I didn't say that. I didn't say anything. It really was quite comfy on the floor.

"Are we ready then?" I'm ready. I don't know what they're talking about. I'm ready for another drink.

"I left Ginny with the boys, she's upset as it is and this will make it worse." Hmm Ginny's upset, interesting. Perhaps she discovered she's been impregnated with yet another Potter spawn. That would do it.

"Sucks for you Potter, can we get on with it? I don't enjoy being in such close proximity to a Gryffindor."

"It isn't a bloody disease, Zabini."

"Says you." Oh good one Blaise. I'll have to remember that. I forgot he was witty.

"Children, feel free to continue your childish spats on your own time." Mother never did appreciate a good barb. Such a shame really. I could hear them shuffling about and I was really hoping they wouldn't use Father's desk. I didn't relish the idea of being trod upon by Potter. I'd seen him dance. He's terribly clumsy.

"Alright then let's get to it." Oh Potter, all business and no pleasure makes you…a ponce.

"Look at me. I'm Harry Potter and I'm in charge of everything because I saved the world. Oh wait, you couldn't have done it without Hermione Granger, who's fucking missing or even Narcissa Malfoy, who saved your worthless hide. Maybe try to be less of a ponce, unless of course that's asking too much of you. I didn't use any large words; you should have been able to understand me." Fuck I love Blaise. It was so fucking hard not to snort. I mean, I would never snort. It's unbecoming. Malfoys are never unbecoming. Shit, I'm feeling something horrid, oh yes, sobriety. I do hope they hurry; the whisky bottle isn't within reach.

"I'm not even going to bother. I had Pixie come to the Ministry under the guise of misplaced paperwork and placed a tracking device on her person. Fantastic invention really and…"

"Mr. Potter." That's right mum, tell Potter to shut it.

"Pixie's been to Cornwall. She's met with Johns a few times, but the girl was never spotted with him and it was impossible to trail him home. She never left her lodgings, he always went to her." Who fucking cares what Pixie does and doesn't do? I divorced her I-love-snatch arse for a reason. Wait. Cornwall…that sounded familiar. I don't know why, perhaps I'd overheard my parents discussing it. I should stop thinking and listen but I'm so bloody tired and thirsty.

"When is Carina's birthday?" Carina! She's my…she's my daughter. How did I know that? Pictures, that's right, I saw pictures. Where did I see pictures? Ginny's house and she was talking about Carina and…fuck my head hurts but I'm so close, I can feel it.

"The twenty fifth of February, Ginny mentioned it once." Fantastic, they know my daughter's birthday and...well, now I did as well. I suppose I couldn't complain too much.

"That's already passed. Hermione could have already administered The Spirit." It was strange to hear my mother refer to **her** as Hermione. I didn't hate it.

"Yes, that's a scenario we're currently working on. She could be gone already, but would she come here?"

"Oi, before you go off on another riveting monologue of 'what would Granger do', perhaps you can tell me about the boy." I don't know anything about a boy, at least not as far as I can remember. He must be important if Blaise is asking about him.

"What is there to tell? She's pregnant, obviously and it's a boy. We don't expect Johns will be there when he's born. Hermione said he had an aversion to such things when Carina was born." Fucking wanker. I wanted to be there when Carina was born but I didn't bloody know she existed. I hated her for that. I hated her anyway, but especially for that.

"It's a good thing too. Hermione wants to name him Leonidas." I smothered a snort and no I'm not going to pretend I didn't. It sounded exactly like something Hermione would do. Leonidas, Merlin, she's going to have a son and his name means 'lion', hurray for Gryffindor. Wait. Does this mean he's mine as well? Is that even a possibility? Of course it is, I'm being stupid, it must be the firewhisky.

"That's a mouthful. If I ever meet the little bugger, I'll call him Leo. Go on then, Potter."

"Zabini, don't refer to Hermione's son as a bugger, alright? As I was saying, Hermione took a few photographs and she put them aside for Malfoy before she had to cast a Charm." Why was she saving pictures for me? Why did she have to cast a Charm? All babies look like potatoes anyway, seems a little unnecessary to me.

"Do you suppose he'll have Draco's eyes? Carina's are so definitively Hermione's…" My mother sounded wistful. The woman who tore me away from the Muggle facility was fucking wistful? Unbelievable. She had some nerve and if I ever said anything about it, she'd blame her family line. Fine, fine, I know I allowed it to happen, that's not the point. It's difficult being a Malfoy and that's not an excuse, yes it is. I know it is. I didn't know how to break the bonds then. I didn't know how to rebel. I'm learning as I go alright?

"Are we really going to have a conversation about a child that hasn't been born yet? The real question is does Malfoy know? Don't look at me like that. Obviously he knows about Carina, but I'm talking about Leonidas."

"Lucius hasn't stepped foot in that particular room since Draco was in nappies, but I have access. I've always had access. They're added to the Tree the moment they are born. I've avoided it since Draco's decided to stay with us. He has access as well. It doesn't matter if he studies it, Leonidas will not be on the tree until he draws his first breath."

"Does he know this?" Blaise is smarter than others give him credit. Of course I know this, but my mother doesn't know I know. She doesn't know I remember, which I don't, but I did a bit of my own research and Father is quite talkative after half a bottle of brandy.

"Do you take me for an imbecile?" Yes, yes I do, but I'll never tell you to your face mum. She's always thought threatening to punish me for entering her private quarters was enough. Fuck that, I was a child. A rambunctious, conniving, trouble making child, if I was told not to do something, I was definitely going to find a way to do it and damn the consequences.

"Why d'ya think he's gone mental? Ginny thinks he was overloaded by information and his brain capsized."

"Potter, imagine you're in love with Ginny and you lose her. That would hurt plenty don't ya think? Then, come to find out she's had your child and married another and she never told you. You still love her; you'll forgive her, no need to think about it. You spend some quality time together, things happen but she has to leave. She loves you, but for reasons you can't understand she has to leave. You're pretty torn up about it, it's haunting you. It's hard to function. Your best friend is the bottom of a bottle. You overhear a conversation because the participants couldn't be bothered using a Silencing Charm and discover you've a child. You visit your friend and she's so bloody excited you finally know everything except you don't; you don't really know anything until she shows you all these beautiful photographs of your daughter. A daughter you've never seen and didn't even know existed. Now you tell me how fine and dandy you'd really be." Merlin's beard, sweet mother of fuck, that's what happened! The pictures were flashing now as if I were holding them, flipping them through my fingers, faster and faster and faster, but it didn't hurt. There wasn't a blinding pain. It was unpleasant, but I could handle this. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the way Blaise said the words. I don't know what it was, but I felt like I was finally waking up.

"Well, when you put it like that…"

"I need a drink!" There, that will show them. I really did need a drink and I was tired of waiting for them to shut it and leave. As long as they were there, the least they could do was make themselves useful.

"Was that Malfoy? Where is he?" I opened my eyes and looking down at me with narrowed blue eyes, was my mother.

"He's on the floor like an imbecile. He's quite intoxicated if I'm not mistaken."

"No I'm not." I didn't want to look at Potter, his face offended my delicate sensibilities.

"Draco…" I hated when she used that voice. It was the 'tell me the truth or I'll send you to the dungeons voice'. She always wins! No one wishes to go to the dungeons and she bloody well knows it.

"Did you say drunk? Yes, I'm completely pissed." I rolled to my knees and smashed my head on the underside of the desk when I attempted to stand. "You fucking wankers could help me."

"It's much more fun watching you struggle." Blaise Zabini's barking laugh was too close to my ear, but I wasn't about to complain when it was his beefy hands lifting me onto my feet and plopping me into my father's chair.

"How long have you been there?" And Potter wins the Imbecile Prize knocking Ron Weasley out of the running. What a proud day for the Potters, they deserve a round of applause.

"This is the boy who brought down Voldemort? Sweet Salazar." I definitely need another drink as that Muggle place called Hell has frozen over.

"Mum, as much as I would simply adore spending the rest of my day trading entertaining snippets of Potter's incompetence, I need a fucking drink or my head is going to explode." Potter looked especially cross with me, which made my day. At least he had the sense to pick up my discarded whisky bottle and hand it to me. I wasn't going to thank him or anything, but I wasn't going to hex him either.

"Malfoy…"

"I don't care, Potter."

"I thought you said we couldn't speak of the children because he'd go mental?" Thanks for that Blaise. He wasn't wrong, but things change.

"Enough of that. Now, what is the ingenious plot you lot have uncovered in regards to…the mother of my children?"

"Draco, darling, I hardly believe your health is up to par, perhaps you should retire and allow us to…"

"Mother, I adore you, but if you attempt to stop me from going after her, I'll be forced to hex you and that would be unpleasant for both of us."

"We don't know where she is." Blaise eyed my bottle and I handed it to him while rolling my eyes.

"What's being done to rectify that?" They were all looking at the carpet. "Nothing? Honestly, you're all ridiculous. Has she contacted Ginny at all?"

"Actually, she sends Ginny a packet of photographs. They're Muggle photos, but I suppose that doesn't matter." Potter was eyeing my whisky, and against my better judgement, I poured him a glass. I wasn't going to swig from the same bottle. He has Gryffindor germs.

"How often?"

"Once a month, always on the first day of the month for the past three, but what does that matter? We've tried to track the owl and it was a complete bust. She's only written an actual letter once, to tell Gin about the pregnancy. She doesn't answer any letters and..."

"Potter, shut it. Why haven't you stuck a basic Revealing Charm on the parchment, or even the owl for that matter? It's obvious wherever my fiancée is residing is heavily warded, otherwise you would have been able to follow Johns. He might be a Squib but that doesn't mean he's to be discounted. He's held onto her this long and she's the smartest person I know."

"Revealing Charms are for ink or parchment not for people, Malfoy." I didn't throttle Potter. I'm not going to say I didn't think about it. I've decided to stop lying to myself and everyone else. It was a relatively new decision, but she'd be proud.

"Blaise..."

"Potter, we're Slytherins. You and the Weasel might have had that nifty map to maneuver all over Hogwarts, but we used Revealing Charms on the Professor's robes. I think Pansy used a Sticking Charm or something as well, but I'm not quite sure. We'd mutter that nifty incantation and our wands would lead us."

"That's…well, that's bloody brilliant. Hermione never thought of that." Potter was impressed, I'm sure it happened to him all the time.

"Don't insult my fiancée."

"Fiancée…what the hell are you going on about?"

"Just because she doesn't know it yet, doesn't make it any less true."


	7. Game Over

**AN: Alright so, I didn't give this chapter the triple once over like I normally do, so there is the possibility of errors and perhaps one day I'll fix them, but not today. I apologise for not updating sooner, normally I have a touch of OCD when it comes to these things, but lately...the gist of the stories is simply eluding me. Thanx for sticking with me. *kisses***

**Warning: This chapter contains extreme domestic violence. If that happens to upset your delicate sensibilities, that's fine, but this chapter isn't for you. Consider yourself warned.**

* * *

Chapter 7 – Game Over

* * *

_(Hermione)_

* * *

My face was stinging but I refused to back down, not again. It didn't matter that he didn't come for me. It didn't matter that Ginny or Harry or even stupid Ron hadn't come for me. I didn't need them. I wanted them, but I didn't need them. I wasn't willing to waste my life away while waiting for a rescue which was never going to come.

Taylor's words were ringing in my head. A never ending echo of the threat in his words and I literally saw red. I had always thought people were exaggerating when they said they saw red. I wasn't. Everything was covered in this red haze. I wanted blood and I wasn't going to back down. I didn't run away. I didn't run for Carina. I ran for him.

I shoved him then, knocked him right off his feet. My first instinct was to apologise. How absolutely ridiculous is that? I was so used to cowering; burying myself so far away he'd never me. Taylor had never witnessed my fire. He'd never seen me cast a powerful spell. He'd never seen my anger at its fullest. I suppose there is a first time for everything.

I'd never laid a hand on him before. I was weak. I was broken. It was easy to shatter those who were already broken. I was tired of being a victim. I was tired of letting him win. I was tired of living in fear. I was tired of being his proverbial whipping boy. I was more than that. I was always more than that, even if I couldn't always see it.

The surprise on his face was priceless. He stared at me hard and his blue eyes turned to ice. He was bigger than me. He was stronger than me, but I was a mother and he was threatening my young. It was a silent standoff. My wand, oh how I missed my wand. I could kill him without batting an eye, but Taylor never did like to fight fair.

He came at me as I knew he would. He slapped me, hard. I stumbled back, but kept my bearings. He loomed over me and I was covered in shadow, but I knew just the way he worked. He was waiting for me to cower and beg, but those days were over. I charged at him. He caught me around the waist, but it didn't stop me. I punched him in the stomach feeling a sense of satisfaction as the breath rushed from his thin lips.

My hair was growing in, it was to my chin and it was an easy target. Taylor latched onto it, fisting it so tightly there were tears in my eyes. I kicked his shins and he laughed. I hated his laugh. It reminded me of a pack of hyenas. He wedged his arm under my chin and slammed me into the wall. I struggled with everything I had. He dragged me through the loose stones in the garden, scraping my knees but I refused to cry out. It was only making my life harder. Taylor wouldn't stop until I was writhing in pain, but I didn't care anymore.

It wasn't about winning. It wasn't about beating him as he had beaten me. It was an act of faith. I wanted him to know he _hadn't_ beaten me. He could hit me, kick me, punch me. He could break my bones and keep me locked away in a gilded cage; I was never going to break. I was **never** going to give up. He reminded me of exactly who I am. One day maybe I'd thank him for waking me from my stupor, but it wouldn't be anytime soon.

I hit the wall so hard I almost forgot to breathe. Lovely, we were inside now; I only hoped Carina slept through the commotion. It was sad, so very sad that my daughter had become quite used to the sounds of my pain. The floor was hard and unforgiving beneath my bleeding knees, but I managed to lurch to my feet.

I laughed in his face when my knee crushed his pitiful manhood. It _was_ pitiful, that's why he was so angry. It's the only thing which made sense to me. I'd be angry if I were male and had that poor excuse of a cock. I didn't laugh long. He'd caught me in a headlock and shoved my face into the wall. I couldn't breathe and all I could think of were my children. I couldn't subject them to a life with him. They didn't deserve that. They didn't deserve any of this.

Merlin what was I thinking? For a short moment in time, I had forgotten. How could I have forgotten about my son? My son, not Taylor's son, not even Malfoy's son, mine and I had forgotten. Even if I stopped fighting, Taylor would continue. I had infuriated him and the idea of his child was long gone from his mind. I was in danger, but more than that my son was in danger and it was my fault. For someone so smart, I can be so stupid.

I elbowed his stomach, wriggling even as he squeezed tighter. My face was trapped between the wall and his hard chest. If I could move my head just a little more…there. Skin between my teeth, chomping down hard even as he screamed in pain laced with rage. He slammed me into the wall and let go. I slid to the floor, gasping in lungfuls of precious air.

"You ungrateful bitch. You're nothing without me. Who else would raise your bastard daughter like she was their own? No one else would pick up the trash and take it home with them. I'll let this one slide. Surprised you had it in you."

"Fuck you, you murdering son of a bitch." I shouldn't have said that. I was so fucking angry, it took over. Taylor snarled, his upper lip twitching while he massaged the hole in his chest. I spit the slivers of his skin onto the floor, resisting the urge to pick out the others wedged between my teeth.

"I think we'll go home with Pixie. We'll stay there for a bit until you have the baby. My real parents would love to meet my son..."

"He's **not** your son." I blinked. I shouldn't have blinked. I turned from him, I shouldn't have done that either. Carina was whimpering in the nursery and it drew my attention away from the danger.

I don't know how many times he hit me. I lost count. I felt my ribs crack, my nose break and my eyes were quickly swelling shut, but he kept on. I didn't have the strength to move. The floor was so cool against my broken body. The wall was so rough and hard behind my back. Taylor had lost his mind.

"He's my son. He's MY son. He's my SON." He chanted it over and over as I grunted upon the force of his boots into my ribs. I coughed, spitting up blood while wondering if I'd live to see tomorrow. Eventually I just covered my head, trying to protect myself the best I could. I curled into the tightest ball, hoping my knees would protect my son, but I couldn't help but wonder if I was kidding myself.

"Taylor. Oh Merlin, Taylor what have you done? Stop! Stop it! You'll kill her. Father will not be willing to clean up your messes again. We've got to go." It was a high feminine voice. I didn't recognise it. It didn't matter; it was getting harder and harder to breathe. Instead of focusing on the voices carrying, I thought of Draco. If I was going to die, I wanted to picture him safe, warm and happy, surrounded by our children. It was all I had left.

"You can't Taylor. There's an owl! They must have known I was coming. We have to leave, right now. I'll lower the rest of the wards." Taylor said something, but I couldn't hear him.

I heard the crack of Apparition before the humming in my ears began. Carina was caterwauling. She was hungry, but I couldn't feed her. I couldn't move. I couldn't even cry. My son was dying. I could feel the blood seeping through my torn jeans. My abdomen was contracting with a familiar pain and I couldn't move.

"Mummum! Bird! Oh, owie!" Carina, oh it's Carina. I didn't want her to see me like this. I didn't know how she escaped the nursery, but there she was, squatting in front of me. She sat near my head, patting my face and placing wet kisses on my brow.

I should have taken The Spirit. I should have walked to London. I should have done something, anything, other than this. I shouldn't have fought with him. I should have just taken my punishment like a good little punching bag.

"Mummum, lookit! Bird!" I wondered if I was going to see her grow up. She's just a baby really. If help didn't come, I'd be nothing more than a faded memory and it broke my heart.

A tawny owl fluttered around the shambles which used to be my house. It landed near Carina and she squealed, trying to capture it. I couldn't untie the parchment from the owl's leg and it was like she knew it. She hopped to my hand, pecking it lightly. I bit back the scream while I dragged my hand to the envelope. I placed my palm on it, leaving a perfect handprint in blood. I remembered thinkings 'feathers' before I didn't think of anything anymore.

* * *

_(The Discovery)_

* * *

Harry Potter was sitting at his desk in the Auror Division at the Ministry with his head in his hands. It was a sad, sad day when he was forced to retreat to his office in order to escape the wrath of his wife. It wasn't **his** fault Hermione hadn't sent an owl. She'd never missed a month before, but what was he supposed to do about it?

"Hiding from your spitfire again, eh Potter?" Harry glanced over the top of his spectacles to see the burly figure of Blaise Zabini propped in his doorway. It was easy to be friendly to the richly tanned Slytherin. He had a jovial manner about him, which while it was unexpected, it was welcome.

"You're never going to call me Harry, are you Blaise?"

"Definitely not. Wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong impression." Blaise winked and made himself at home. "I sent her an owl." There wasn't any need for him to explain to whom he was referring.

"How'd you manage that?" Harry learned forward, bracing his arms on the piles of spread parchment on his desk, paying rapt attention.

"You really are quite inept without her, aren't you? I sent the bloody owl to Cornwall. You said that's where she is..."

"I don't know if she's still there. Ginny wasn't able to Apparate to the address she had, the wards had been strengthened, but Hermione wouldn't have done it and Johns is a Squib, so…"

"Pixie. She might be a tits loving, fanny munching bint but she's quite adept when it comes to protection spells. It was a necessary evil in order to hide her predilections."

"Malfoy's ex-wife likes girls?"

"Likes is an understatement, but we're getting off-track. I borrowed Ginny's owl. I wanted to send one that had been in the general area at one time. It's a stretch, I'm aware, but it's better than nothing."

"If the wards are that strong, it won't be able to breach them any better than any other owl, Zabini."

"Potter, Potter, Potter, when are you going to learn? I'm a Slytherin, which means I'm smarter than you, better looking than you, I know how to use my cock and the most important factoid; I'm cunning which is exactly what this situation requires."

"Why must you always resort to insults? It's not exactly conducive to anything is it?"  
"I'm genetically engineered to mock everyone that is not a Slytherin. Get used to it. I don't work for the Ministry. I'm not their Golden Child poster boy. I don't want to be either." Blaise shuddered and then he smiled, nice and slow.

"I'm not going to like this, am I?" Harry tented his fingertips beneath his chin, bracing himself.

"You don't have to like it, you simple can't repeat it. I'd don't relish the idea of a stint in Azkaban because you couldn't keep your mouth shut."

"Christ, what did you do?"

"Who's Christ?"

"It's a Muggle…oh never mind! Get on with it then!" Blaise snickered. He couldn't help it really. It was entirely too easy to rile up Harry and he wasn't able to resist whenever an opportunity arose.

"I can't give you all the specifics, or any of them, you just have to trust me Potter."

"You've got to give me something Blaise!" Blaise crossed his arms, refusing to yield, though he changed his tune almost immediately when Harry pulled out the whisky.

"I brought Pansy in on it and before you read me a riot act I'll ignore, it was necessary. No one's better at Charms than she is. Well, I mean Granger probably, but she's not here. She used a uhm, well, an obscure spell…don't ask, you don't want to know, and she Charmed the owl itself."

"Why, why would she do that? Why would that help us?" Harry poured a liberal tumbler of whisky and passed it to Blaise.

"She's Johns' sister, did you know that? Pixie is the baby of the family and a right twat. You've always had Granger and Weasley. It was always Draco, Pansy and me. We couldn't fix Draco anymore than you could fix Granger. Maybe this will help. We take care of our own and well, Granger, she's alright I suppose. I mean, she's completely irritating and she never shuts up, but Draco loves her and that's all I need to know."

"I always thought Pansy was in love with him."

"Oh she was, but that was a long time ago. Once she found out about her brother, she basically told her parents to fuck off. I'm not saying she's completely dismissed all that pureblood ideology, but she's made some progress. She actually fancies…what the fuck is his name?" Blaise snapped his fingers while he thought and Harry shrugged. "Ravenclaw kid, uhm..Roger yeah, Roger Davies. He's a little full of himself, but I don't see him much."

"Not that this isn't absolutely riveting, it is in a strange…I think I've had enough libation sort of way, but I'd really like to get back to Hermione."

"Hey, Potter? I think we're pissed." Blaise whispered conspiratorially.

"I know, ssshhh, don't tell Ginny."

"Pan-Pansy got a strand of Johns hair. She fused it to the owl to confuse the wards."

"How?!"

"Tsk tsk tsk," Blaise waggled his finger, "if I tell you, I have to kill you. We sent special parchment with it. If she touches it, the location will appear on this." Blaise removed a square of parchment from his back pocket and waved it in Harry's face.

"Why don't you work for the Ministry? You'd be a real asset. This is incredible work!"

"One, I don't want too. Two, the Ministry frowns upon my methods. Three, I don't have a three but I still don't want too." He laughed, attempting to imagine himself working for the bloody Ministry when the parchment glowed in his hand, spinning through a kaleidoscope of colours. Blaise stared at it, swallowing hard. "Potter, we've got to go. The owl made it through."

"Holy shit. Wait, let me gather a team and I have to..."

"There's no time Potter, we have to go, NOW. That ruddy owl is going to the Manor. Draco's going to figure it out and we can't have him arrive before us." Blaise pulled his wand from his pocket and laid the parchment carefully onto Harry's desk.

"Well, why not? It's not..."

"Harry! Blue is safe. Yellow is caution. Red is danger. Green is…well I don't remember…"

"What's gold then?" Blaise didn't answer, swallowing hard. "Blaise, what's gold?"

"Portus." Blaise pointed his wand at the parchment with an address burned into it and sighed. "Dying. Gold is dying. We have to leave." Harry grasped the scrape of paper the same moment Blaise's fingertips touched the corner and they were swept away.

* * *

_(Hermione)_

* * *

"Oh you poor dear." My eyes refused to open. My entire body was numb and I was so grateful. Numb was better than allowing myself to succumb to the pain and scream. I'd already done that. I hoped Carina was alright.

"M..mm…" I knew her voice. It would be impossible not to know her voice. Mara. Mara the Nanny had arrived and if I was lucky she wouldn't give up on me.

"Don't try to speak, dear. I've phoned for some help, they should be here soon. It wouldn't be wise to Apparate you anywhere in your condition. No, not at all. I'm so sorry, I feel just terrible. I knew. I should have done something. I thought after Carina it would be alright. What a fool I've been. They don't stop, they never stop. Don't you worry about Carina. I'll take good care of her. Taylor never was interested in coming up to my cottage. The wards rival the ones here. I'll bring her somewhere if you like. If there's someone…I mean, do you have anyone? I'm being silly, you can't answer me." She stopped talking. I needed her to keep talking. She was keeping me alive and she didn't even know it.

"G..G.." Ginny! I wanted to shout. I wanted Ginny. I needed Ginny. I trusted Ginny with my life, with my daughter's life. If I died, I wanted her to raise Carina. She'd be a good mother to her. She'd love her the way I would love her. I couldn't ask for more than that. "Gin.."

"Gin? Oh do you mean Ginny, Ginny Potter? I can't say I know the girl, but I've sent those packets of photographs for you for months. I can send her an owl if you like. Oh I do believe the Muggle Healers are here. I can never remember what they're called." Mara, bless her heart, squeezed my hand so tightly I could feel it. I figured considering how battered and broken my body was, that was a pretty fantastic feat.

There were so many noises it was impossible to separate them from each other. The shuffling of feet, shouts, gasps of horror all blended together until it was only me, floating high in the air until everything slipped into a peaceful, comforting darkness.

* * *

_(The Discovery)_

* * *

Harry and Blaise landed behind a pub and took in the unfamiliar surroundings. Blaise had failed to mention the magic wasn't perfect. They didn't land in Hermione's back yard or even in the vicinity of her dwelling, as far they knew.

"Well now what?!" Harry threw his hands in the air, obviously disgruntled. He knew he had been rash in his decision to simply believe Blaise Zabini and his Grey Magic.

Blaise shrugged and walked straight into the pub. He eyed the salty barkeep before taking a stool. The other patrons ignored him, sipping their pints and having a bit of a laugh. Casually he laid his wand on the worn bar, winking at the old man called Sam by a particularly loud customer. Sam inclined his head, slowly limping toward the tanned Italian. Blaise reached into his pocket, pulled out a galleon and rolled it between his hands.

"What'll ya have?" Sam was missing a few of his bottom teeth and his grey hair was straggly but there was a glint of wariness in his dark eyes.

"Firewhisky." The barkeep nodded and poured a liberal shot, placing it between Blaise's hands, snatching the galleon with surprisingly nimble crooked fingers.

"Zabini! What the bloody hell are you doing?!" Harry finally burst through the door of the pub, his green eyes blazing.

"Oi, Sam. You ever hear of a bloke goes by Taylor Johns?" Blaise pretended Harry didn't exist. It was a game he played often, but currently he wanted information and he wasn't about to allow himself to become distracted.

"Ach, that Johns. Nasty piece o' work. Comes here and sits a bit. Doesn't work s'far as I know. Bit of a braggart, 'specially when it comes ta his wife. N'er seen 'er, but uh af'er a few drinks he gets to talkin' bout how he smacks her 'round a bit. They live up the hell a ways. Mara is their Nanny. She's my daughter-in-law." Blaise tossed a few galleons on the bar.

"We're friends of Mrs Johns. We believe she's in grave danger…"

"Oi, Bobby! Put your bloody pint down and take these here wizards up to Mara's. They're goin' to rescue that Johns girl." Sam shouted over the bar and a short, squat, balding man slammed his pint onto the round table and headed out the door. Blaise and Harry quickly followed him as he weaved the streets until they came to a path leading to a smattering of quaint homes.

"Mara Andrews lives o'deer." Bobby pointed a white and brown cottage with a small garden near the bottom of the hill. "Johns lives up deer." The moment Blaise and Harry looked to where Bobby was pointing a flurry of red sparks erupted over the furthest cottage. "Seems you a lil late. Best git to it then." Bobby ambled away as quickly as he came; leaving Blaise and Harry to rush up the incline.

"Helpful lot, ain't they?" Blaise huffed while sprinting in irritation.

"Wankers."

* * *

_(Hermione)_

* * *

The night air felt cool on my face and for a moment I wondered where I was. I could hear the harsh breaths beside me and realised I was being carried. Oh yes, the joy of Muggle Healers and their hard, unforgiving contraptions that jostled my every broken bone.

"MUM UM UM!" Gods, Carina, my baby must be so scared. I would have cried, I felt the need to cry but the tears were an impossibility. The Muggles had given me something. My eyelids were lead, my body immobile and still I yearned for Carina.

My magic was volatile. There had never been a time when Muggle drugs and I ever got along. I remembered the first time I ever showed an aptitude for magic. My parents of course were completely terrified but after a friendly visit from Dumbledore he explained the issue. It should have been a routine dental visit. I was used to them of course. It was impossible not to be when your parents are dentists. I had cleanings all the time, but it was my first cavity. I couldn't have been more than five or six. I was a little scared, but I trusted my dad. He had always been gentle. Incredibly quiet, but gentle and that was just fine with me. The shot of Novocain hurt more than I expected and my dad's instruments jumped on the tray.

"Well look at that Jeanie, my instruments just want to dance right into that pretty little mouth of yours." I remembered kicking my feet and giggling but I wasn't any less nervous.

When my dad put a sharp instrument in my mouth, the light bulbs shattered. I was crying by then and my dad tried to explain it away but he was afraid. I could see it in his eyes. He was afraid of me. He held his hands up and smiled, slowly backing away from me and I got angry. Something shifted in the air and I didn't understand it at the time, but I did now. It crackled and my hair stood on end. I didn't understand it any better than he did, but the fact he was backing away from me, that hurt the most. He was my dad. He was supposed to protect me and love me. I remember I blinked and he was across the room and it was covered in red sparks.

The way I felt, lying on the blasted Muggle stretcher, reminded me of that day in my dad's dental practice. The slight breeze was turning into a blistering wind and as they placed me inside the screaming ambulance, it happened.

"OO Pit-ee!" Oh Carina my love, yes I'm sure they're pretty, but the Muggles are afraid of me now. I wished I could see the adoration in her face. She had always loved anything pretty and this was no exception I'm sure.

"Well, so much for that." Mara chuckled, though I failed to see anything humorous about the situation. Not that I was capable of seeing anything anyway. "Obliviate."

* * *

_(It's All F.U.B.A.R.)_

* * *

Taylor Parkinson Johns allowed himself to be mindlessly dragged into his family's estate home. The particulars of the day's events were still terribly hazy and his head pounded something awful, but it was easier to be led then to think of what he had done. It was an accident, at least to his way of thinking. She brought on herself, that was the mantra he chanted in order to justify his actions.

His intention hadn't been to lose his temper so severely. He just wanted to teach her a lesson. His only agenda had been to teach Hermione how to be a good wife, a proper wife. It wasn't his fault she was obstinate. It wasn't his fault she needed to be properly trained.

He needed her to prove to his family he was worthy of their love. He couldn't very well introduce her as a War Heroine if she couldn't even present a proper tea service. His father would be appalled. If she hadn't angered him with that bloody letter, it would have been alright. Taylor knew he had sufficiently tied her down. It didn't matter that the girl wasn't his child. Carina was a pretty girl, she'd grow into a beautiful woman and they'd ensnare an unassuming husband that could be easily influenced. The boy on the other hand, that was a completely different story. Taylor imagined if the boy was magical; his father would welcome him with open arms, finally offering the family a worthy heir.

It's all he ever wanted. He wanted his father to finally forgive him for killing his bastard sister. It was an accident, why couldn't his father understand? He'd spent the rest of his life trying to erase that one moment in time. Taylor's head hit his chest as he heard the familiar clip of his father's shoes against the shining stone.

"What is the meaning of this?" Taylor cringed, covering his head with his arms, the way he always had during confrontations with his father.

"Daddy, Taylor's gone and done it again." Pixie sighed dramatically, throwing herself into her father's arms. "I didn't know what to do. He's made such a mess of things. He beat her daddy. Beat her senseless. I've never seen anything like it. I don't know what he was thinking. There I was trying, trying to contact my big brother and reestablish a relationship with him and he was standing over her just kicking and kicking. Oh daddy, it was horrid. I thought he was better, daddy."

Ramses Parkinson patted his daughter's back slowly, his dark eyes never leaving his contrite son. When he learned his son had married, Ramses had truly believed there was hope for his oldest child, his only son. His Muggle relatives had simply oozed elation in their correspondence. While Ramses was pleased with the new development, quite honestly he was waiting for his son's perversion to come rising back to the surface and he was not disappointed.

It wasn't that Ramses Parkinson didn't love his son. He did, which was why he had sent the boy away in the first place. He knew there was something amiss with the child from the time he was small. Leticia wouldn't hear of it. She doted on him as if he were the only thing in her world which mattered and perhaps he was.

His wife was the perfect breed of pureblood. He couldn't have asked for anything more, or rather his father couldn't have asked for anything more. Ramses had his eyes set on Narcissa Black, but her father being an impertinent man deemed Lucius Malfoy a more acceptable match. No matter, he showed them by bedding Narcissa a scant fortnight before her nuptials leaving her with his seed.

Of course he hadn't been aware it had blossomed into that little girl, but it came to light as all things do. Apparently the girl, Lyra, was magical, which was more than could be said for Taylor. Ramses had been rough with the boy, he admitted as much after his wife confronted him, but it was necessary. He had grown tired of explaining away the absences of his daughters' pets. Taylor had killed them in various ways, all of which disgusted him. Ramses had suspected Taylor was a Squib, but Taylor was his son, his heir. He couldn't discard the boy, until Lyra.

Taylor had flown into a rage upon learning Lyra was only a handful of months younger than him and bound for Hogwarts. He demanded his father introduce them properly and Ramses complied. It was a colossal error and in the end it cost more than his pride. It cost his eldest daughter her life and for that there was no redemption.

"What have you done? Tell me you haven't murdered yet another innocent witch." Ramses tried to maintain control, keeping his voice low and soothing, regardless of the words. His mother had often told him, it wasn't what was said it was how it was said and it often proved to be true.

"She wasn't innocent!" Taylor shouted, his voice warbling, his hands shaking as he rose to his feet. He wondered for a moment when had he crumpled, before dismissing it completely.

"Who was she?" Ramses sat in the high backed chair near the hearth, crossing his long legs. Pixie sniffed with disdain as she did toward all things she considered beneath her, yet she sat beside her father and smoothed the skirt of her puce robes.

"My wife, it was just my wife. I have the right to discipline her however I see fit." Taylor smiled, a toothy sort of grin and crossed his arms in belligerence.

"Oh Taylor, must I constantly play these games? Be forthcoming and tell me the woman's name so I may clean up your mess once more."

"Hermione Granger." Ramses choked on his goblet of mead, wiping the droplets from his chin and groaned.

"This is a joke, isn't it? He has to be lying, right daddy?" Pixie's voice had always been high and nasally yet as her upset raised so did the octaves of her voice. As of now, Ramses was quite sure even the dogs were howling in discontent.

"I surely hope so my dear. If not, we are…how would you say? Oh yes, supremely fucked."


	8. The End of the Beginning

Chapter 8 – The End of the Beginning

* * *

(Draco)

* * *

I'd grown to enjoy Ginny's company. It was strange to admit that to myself, but behind that angry exterior, she was quite pleasant. She was like me. We were on the outside looking in. We didn't work for the Ministry. We weren't privy to their efforts. They wanted us to 'be patient', which was easier said than done.

I don't know why Ginny insisted on having tea at the Manor. I'd finally managed to move into my flat after my drunken revelations in the library and she kept dragging me back here. I shouldn't be here. I should be waiting with Blaise and Potter, but they wouldn't hear of it. Sanctimonious tossers thought it would be better if they sent word upon learning anything. It might compromise my delicate sensibilities to attempt to patient. Delicate sensibilities my arse, they simply didn't wish me to hex them into oblivion and for that I can't really blame them.

"Malfoy quit your pouting. I don't know why you're making such a fuss. It's not as if you've even really moved into your flat anyway. You're waiting just as much as we're all waiting. Now why don't you keep an eye on the boys and I'll see if Narcissa wishes to join us for tea." Ginny placed a squirming Albus in my arms and left the parlor.

"I wonder…Mother!" There was a bloody owl circling around the back of the Manor. She refused to leave a window open for the post.

"Birdie poop!" James laughed, as the owl fluttered into one of the many windows.

"Correct James, Nana Cissy doesn't allow nasty birds in her pretty house." My mother whisked into the parlor, throwing the doors open wide so the boys could observe the owl. The boys of course, being true Potter spawn, squealed and ran down the corridor to press their sticky fingers on the picture window.

Merlin forbid she actually opened the outside doors to collect the post. No, can't have that. It's apparently unbecoming to have a spot of owl dung on the pristine floors. It was always as if she believed she would have to clean it, which is ridiculous. She has house elves for the tedious mundane things in life.

Ginny was mumbling under her breath and while I couldn't make out all the words, I was almost positive she was cussing my mother's stubbornness under her breath. She smiled sweetly and threw open the french doors. I laughed as she tried to catch the owl. She was on the verge of hexing the poor creature, I could tell, when she ensnared it with both hands. She unfurled the post, waggling her fingers at a crawling Albus before her eyes dropped down. Her face paled and her fingers began to shake.

"Cissa! CISSA!" Ginny sobbed, struggling to remain on her feet. My mother ran, she actually ran. I'd never truly seen my mother run before, as if her life depended on it. "Get your supplies, we need to go. NOW." My mother simply nodded and ran down the corridor. She didn't even ask why Ginny was so frantic. Why is Ginny so frantic? What could the letter possibly say?

"Ginny? Are you alright?" I snapped my fingers, calling for Tandy, my personal house elf and gestured towards the children without another word. Tandy adored the children and I trusted her, implicitly. She would stay with them until I ordered her otherwise. I could imagine Granger throwing an absolute fit and it pleased me.

I crossed the checker patterned floor quickly. This didn't feel right. She was hiding something from me. She refused to look at me, her fingers stroking the elegant letters on the page in her fist. Ginny folded the corner so I couldn't make out the words and I wanted to snatch it from her, but my mother was beside us.

She had changed into sensible clothing. I didn't know she owned sensible clothing. I couldn't recall a time I'd ever seen her in anything less than a gown or her robes. My mother was wearing dark grey slacks with a matching blouse. They were expertly cut, of course they were. As if my mother would wear anything less than the best. Her long blonde hair had been pulled up into a bloody ponytail. My mother doesn't wear ponytails. The only reason I know what that blasted hairstyle is called was from years of attempting to tune out Pansy.

"Malfoy, I shouldn't…" I hated her shaking voice. Something was wrong. She was never this upset. She's Ginny Potter. She's the epitome of rage. It had to be…oh shit.

"Is it…Hermione…tell me."

"Draco." My mother was looking at me with pity. Something was terribly wrong. Sweet Merlin if she was…I couldn't. "Ginevra, give him the letter. Draco, this is a matter of life and death. It's imperative you do not barrage us with questions now. Allow us to assess the situation and we'll make contact as soon as we are able." My mother turned on her heel and stalked into the wet grass without another word. She always had a tendency to swish as if she were always wearing dress robes. It really was a talent.

"I've been near there; I'm going to Apparate your mum. Take this parchment. Turn it into a portkey. I'm sure you can recognise the magic." Ginny hugged me quickly, almost as if it were an afterthought before she chased after my mother. The horror in her eyes as they disappeared terrified me. It must have been serious if Ginny was recommending I circumvent the Ministry and create my own portkey. Potter would have a field day with that bit of information.

I was afraid to look at the crumpled paper in my hand. What if it said she was dead? What would I do then? Perhaps I deserved such a punishment. It wasn't as if I was worthy of her. If I was, I would never have left her. I would have…Sweet Salazar, the children!

"Hermione Granger Johns. Mylor Bridge. Falmouth. Cornwall. Critical." This had Blaise written all over it, that arse. I recognised this magic. It wasn't exactly Dark Magic, but it was a grey area and frowned upon. If the Ministry knew what he was doing there would be hell to pay. They wouldn't toss him into Azkaban, at least I didn't think they would, but fuck anything was possible these days. Everyone was wary of the slightest hint of magic they didn't understand.

I didn't have time for an inner debate. I needed to know what the fuck was going on and what better time than the present. I ruffled James hair while giving him a quick hug and patted Albus' dark hair while avoiding his smiling drooly mouth. I gave Tandy strict instructions to feed the boys' lunch and then put them down for naps no matter how much they argued against it. I felt slightly vomitus as I cast the spell and then I was spinning away toward parts unknown.

* * *

(The Discovery)

* * *

Ginny had expected the modest home to be swarming with Aurors, instead she found a hysterical brunette witch and a broken Hermione.

"It's alright dear, help will come. They've got to come." The brunette witch repeated, cradling a whimpering child.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?! Take the baby to the nursery! She doesn't need to see this! Why haven't you done anything for her?" Ginny shoved the witch out of the way, immediately kneeling in the small puddle of blood beside Hermione.

"I...I cast the Charm to protect the boy." Mara stuttered, backing away slowly from the angry witch.

While Narcissa swallowed the bile which had risen in her throat and directed the inept witch down an unfamiliar corridor, Ginny inspected the damage.

Ginny had seen a lot during the war. She had helped heal many a witch and wizard while hidden away at Grimmauld Place and even later at Hogwarts itself, but she had never seen anything resembling what lay before her. She was used to magical ailments; curses, hexes and jinxes but Muggle violence was a foreign concept.

Hermione was strapped to a strange Muggle contraption sitting in the middle of the living room. Her face was swollen and bloodied, almost unrecognisable. Her brown hair which had grown to her chin was plastered to her head and soaked with blood. Her nose was crooked, her lips split and there were various cuts decorating her forehead and cheeks. The bruises seemed to cover every inch of exposed skin and Ginny was afraid to open her blouse.

"She needs a Blood Replenishing Draught, dear." Narcissa's cool voice helped Ginny remain calm. She couldn't afford hysteria. She needed to focus all her skills on saving her friend's life.

"Her breathing is…shallow, too shallow. Why aren't they here? Shouldn't they be here?" Narcissa grasped Ginny under her arms, forcing her to her feet.

"The Nanny's name is Mara. She's a bit of a mess and the baby needs feeding. Why don't you see if Hermione has something stored." Ginny nodded, feeling a numbness cover the panic.

Narcissa filled a bowl with warm water and began soaking strips of cloth. She reached into her messenger bag, quite familiar with its contents. Sadly, she was also quite familiar with Muggle violence upon witches by their enraged spouses. She added a few concoctions to the water and sighed. It was going to be painful regardless of what she did, but her Potions would help ease the pain somewhat. Slowly, she washed off Hermione's face, wincing at the black blemishes. Hermione moaned when Narcissa used an 'Episkey' to fix her broken nose.

"It's alright dear, we're here. You're safe now." Narcissa unbuttoned Hermione's blouse, bracing herself for the worst and she wasn't disappointed. From a quick inspection, it seemed that most of the ribs on Hermione's right side were broken, the ones on the left severely battered and bruised. She couldn't imagine the pain, considering Hermione was lying on her right side. She washed Hermione's torso, her fingers poking and prodding the broken skin, murmuring to herself. Finally, she propped Hermione's head in the crook of her elbow and began pouring the Potions down her throat.

"First we've got a Blood Replenishing Potion as you've lost too much. You're so pale, dear. I know it doesn't taste the best, but let's see if we can get that throat working. There you go, wonderful. It seems your hand has a few broken bones. That's such a shame. I've never enjoyed seeing anyone suffer through the effects of Skele-Gro. One would think with all the options we have, someone could make it less vile." Narcissa shuddered, investigating Hermione's lower half before administering more Potions.

She was thankful Draco had not arrived, he would be beside himself. She was under no delusions, she knew he would come. He wouldn't be able to help himself, she only wished for time.

"Some of her fingernails are torn off. She put up a fight." Ginny swayed to and fro cradling a sleeping Carina. It kept her nerves steady to hold onto the child and she was desperate for any relief from her upset.

"She's always been a fighter." Narcissa straightened Hermione's legs, adjusting her unconscious body to lie flat on her back. "I'd prefer to have her propped in a ridiculously comfortable bed, but I'm remiss to move her." Narcissa grimaced while massaging Hermione's throat. Hermione groaned, her swollen eyelids fluttering.

"Ca-Cari…" She mumbled, barely coherent through bruised lips.

"Don't talk. Carina's fine. She's with Ginny. We're here now. I need you to drink this. It'll help you breathe better. It's unpleasant and it will hurt, but I can't give you a Sleep Draught. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Hermione coughed, her body quivering with the exertion.

"I'm going to put Carina into bed and see about Mara. She's a strange old bird. Thank Godric for that Protection Charm. I'm surprised she managed to do that much. She's a bit useless. Did you know Hermione's icebox is bloody filled with these little bags of breast milk? It's fantastic. She's going to scream once the Skele-Gro kicks in; I'll place a Silencing Charm around the nursery." Narcissa's eyes never left the woman her son loved.

She wondered how it was possible for the mighty to fall so far. She made a mental note to inquire of Hermione one day, if she survived. Narcissa knew they needed a Healer; there was only so much she could do with her limited supply of knowledge and Potions.

"I couldn't Apparate her to St. Mungos in her condition." Mara had crept back into the room, staring at the puddles of blood. "I telephoned for the Muggle Healers and they came, of course they did." She rang her withered hands in the hem of her apron. She felt guilty. Mara had known Johns was beating his wife, anyone with half a brain knew as much but she had done as much as the others…nothing.

"Where are they then? Muggles, I suppose they're not completely useless, but their medical practices are positively medieval. I suppose they would have cut into her like a common animal, but the question still begs to be answered. Where are they?" Narcissa continued to wash Hermione's limbs, still quite perturbed by the hapless Nanny.

"It was her magic. I'd be careful, Miss. She knocked those Muggles right off their feet with raw magic. I was forced to Obliviate them after I brought Ms. Johns back inside. It wouldn't do well for them to see her after that. I suppose she'll be alright now that you're here." Mara unbuckled the stretcher with trembling fingers, obviously afraid of the semi-conscious witch.

"Why didn't you give aid sooner?" Narcissa attempted to keep her voice low and even to disguise the venom, but she failed.

"I cast the Protection Charm yesterday. I could feel a storm brewing. Mr. Taylor is a terrifying man. I wouldn't expect you to know of it. I did the best I could and I'm aware it wasn't enough. I didn't know right away mind ya. He was quite careful and she wasn't about to share her shame I suppose. My husband and Mr. Taylor spend many a night at the pub. I'm sure you can imagine how that turned out for us both. I sent those packets when she asked until my husband did away with my owl much the way Mr. Taylor did away with hers. I had a daughter once. She was a beautiful girl and I loved her dearly, but she wasn't my husband's child which is how I suppose it all began." Narcissa began sputtering, but Mara quickly waved her hand. "Don't waste your pretty words on me. It's far too late for me and I'm too old to start over. This girl has a chance. She has a beautiful daughter and I'm sure her father would love her as much as…"

"Cissa? Ginny? What the fuck? Oh my gods, is she alive?" Blaise stumbled into the cottage, wand drawn, and eyes wide and panting.

Mara, the unassuming Nanny smiled to herself and walked out the door. She knew Hermione was in good hands and she couldn't ask for more than that.

Blaise ignored the older witch ambling past them slowly with the cryptic smile. His eyes were focused on the broken witch beside Narcissa. He'd never seen such a thing and then he realised Harry Potter was completely silent. It wasn't until the heart wrenching sob that Blaise was forced to restrain a distraught Harry in order for Narcissa to continue working.

"I-I can't be here. I have to find him and kill him." Harry's green eyes blazed with a rage he hadn't felt since the war. He wanted to be rash. He wanted to be reckless. He wanted to hunt down Taylor Johns and hex him to within an inch of his life. He wanted to use his fists and revel in the sound of bones crunching beneath his fist.

"Harry, he's not worth it. Take a moment, catch your breath. Go out to the garden and keep an eye out for Malfoy and send Kingsley a Patronus. He needs to send a team." Ginny's voice was the voice of reason breaking through the inner bellows for justice. Harry was prepared to refuse. He wanted to stay with her as much as he wanted to leave. He wanted to see her open her eyes. He desperately wanted to hear her voice reprimanding him for making such a fuss. He was determined to stay, until she began to scream. He remembered the pain of Skele-gro. He couldn't imagine how painful it must be for Hermione considering her extensive injuries. He rushed out the door, running until he could no longer hear her screams. He emptied the contents of his stomach beside a stone wall just as Draco Malfoy ran down the path.

"Is she…she's not…she's alright, tell me she's alright." Harry braced his hands on his knees, concentrating on the ground.

"She's a fucking mess, Malfoy." He didn't raise his head when he heard Draco's hurried steps toward the cottage. He couldn't. If Draco Malfoy managed to stay beside her, Harry decided he'd never speak badly of Draco again.

Draco slowed when he heard Hermione screaming.

* * *

(Draco)

* * *

I was afraid. I was afraid of being afraid. What if I spent so much time outside wondering if I should enter and I never had the opportunity to see her? It was obvious she was in excruciating pain. I didn't want to see her in pain, but if she…if she…fuck…if she died, I'd never forgive myself for not spending her last moments with her. I took a deep breath, opened the door and stepped inside.

My mother was tending Hermione. I couldn't believe my eyes. It was obvious she'd done this before and I wondered how many times she'd been forced to aid abused witches. I couldn't see either of their faces, but Hermione's screams had become whimpers and Mother was whispering to her.

"She needs a Healer." I was frozen, at least a dozen steps away from her, but even I knew that much.

"Draco, you're here. I've had to work within my capabilities. Blaise went back to the pub to see about a local Healer. We can't move her, not yet. She'll require observation overnight. If she…makes it through the night, there's a chance she'll pull through, but I'm not going to make promises Draco, and I need you to understand."

"It's bad then." I whispered, taking a few steps forward. "It's really bad if she's still on the floor."

"She's not technically on the floor. It's some sort of Muggle contraption. I didn't think it was in her best interest to be moved until her bones began mending. I know there's a bedroom on this floor, but I used a lot of my magic on healing spells." My mother's shoulders slumped and I knew she was exhausted, though she'd never admit it.

"It's alright, mum. I'll take care of her."

"There's a guest room near the end of the hall. It has an attached bath. I could find her something to wear and maybe…" Ginny choked back a sob, patting Carina's bottom.

"I'll take care of it." I didn't want to use a Levitating Charm. I didn't trust myself and it was obvious my mum and Ginny were in no shape either. I squatted beside her, studying every line, every curve, every bruise and memorising them. Hermione cried out when I lifted her. Instinctively I wanted to hold her close, but I didn't want to hurt her. I never wanted to hurt her. She'd been hurt enough for a fucking lifetime. If Harry and his bloody Aurors couldn't find Taylor Johns, I would and when I was done there would be nothing left.

"Malfoy, do you want to..." I didn't need Ginny to finish her question. She wanted to know if I wanted to meet my daughter. I did, desperately, but I wanted to take care of Hermione first. I had the rest of my life to spend with my daughter, but if Hermione wasn't going to live, I wanted to spend the rest of her life, with her. I was still having trouble with the idea of having a daughter, but I didn't have time to think about it. If I thought about my daughter, Carina, I'd become angry with Hermione and I didn't want to be angry with her, not then.

"Not until I know she'll be alright." I'm sure it would come across as selfish. I'm sure she'd reprimand me and I welcomed it. If she was reprimanding me, she was alive.

Ginny followed me into the washroom and while I realised she was carrying my daughter, I was watching Hermione's chest rise and fall.

"Turn the taps for me. I don't want to put her down. Have my mother prepare a cachet of herbs. She'll know which are best." I sat on the edge of the sunken tub and laid her across my legs. It was awkward, but I needed to touch her face. I ran my thumb across her bottom lip, and brushed her sticky hair off her forehead. I knew I could use a simple cleaning spell. We all knew them, it was basic first year magic, but I wanted to ease her pain. I wanted to see her muscles relax and the lines in her forehead dissipate. I wanted to hear her sigh. It was silly and perhaps a bit reckless, but I think I always needed her more than she needed me. I needed her to live; I only hoped she felt the same way.

I could feel the moment my mother entered the bath. I could feel her eyes boring into my back, but I wasn't interested in her opinions. I wasn't interested in answering her unasked questions either. I didn't need her to understand why I loved Hermione; I just needed her to understand that I did.

"Comfrey, rosemary, slippery elm, lavender, thyme and special salts. The cachet should help heal her bruises and assist in rapid healing. I'm adding a Numbing Potion to the water itself; the salts have a tendency to sting. If she wakes, keep her calm if possible. I'll lay out something loose and soft for her to wear as well. Draco…"

"Thank you, Mother." I appreciated her soft voice and her calming words, but we both knew I wasn't going to feel better until she opened those pretty brown eyes.

I had difficulty lowering her into the tub, but I wasn't about to ask for help. My mother's firmly clamped thin lips made me aware of how much she disapproved of me bathing Hermione. It was intimacy and mother wasn't used to seeing such things first hand, especially from me. I couldn't manage keeping her head above water without using a Sticking Charm and I didn't think that was the recourse.

"Malfoy stop trying to drown my best friend and get in there with her." Ginny stuck her head in the door, trying to smile, but it faltered. She was right. I didn't mind, not really, though the fact Hermione was unconscious made it strange to say the least. I'd never bathed with anyone before, and while I would have preferred she were an active participant, I loved the feel of her in my arms.

I avoided the gentle mound of her abdomen out of necessity. The bruises lining her sides made me wonder if the child continued to live. The idea of losing Hermione overwhelmed everything, adding a child to the equation was another matter. Even if the child wasn't mine, it was part of her and that made it precious. I wished, well I wished a lot of things quite recently, but I wished magic had the ability to repair all which was broken.

My mother had healed the small cuts on her scalp, her face and even the scars on her arms. I wondered briefly how Hermione would feel knowing her self inflicted wounds were gone. I draped her head over my shoulder and washed her arms with some sort of liquid soap that reminded me of orange blossoms and lavender. Her shampoo smelled of lemons and I loved it. I carefully washed her hair, mindful of a particularly nasty bump on the back of her head. I'd never washed anyone's hair before either. I wondered how she'd feel about it when she sighed, her face finally relaxing. I rinsed and conditioned her hair and nuzzled her ear. It wasn't remotely sexual. I just missed her. I missed the way she smelled. I missed everything about her, even the things which irritated me.

"Hmmm." I rolled her onto her side in order to scrub her back when she moaned. It was something, wasn't it? It was better than nothing. Hermione was somewhat responsive, that was a good sign. At least that's what I kept telling myself as I quickly finished washing her and drained the tub.

I wrapped her in a fluffy towel, before drying myself with my wand. She looked so relaxed, almost as if she were simply sleeping. How I wished that was true. My mother had laid out a white, cap sleeved cotton nightgown with a slight ivy design swirling near the hem. I had to resort to magic to dress her, it would have been impossible otherwise. Vaguely I wondered why my mother didn't provide a pair of knickers, but that thought was quickly vanquished when I laid Hermione beneath the feather coverlet.

"Draco." Her eyes were still closed, but they were moving quickly behind her eyelids. She was dreaming. She was dreaming of me.

Her hair was still damp but I left it. I knew she detested using magic on her hair, it always made it frizz. I resorted to a smoothing crème I found in her night table and smiled in satisfaction when it calmed her unruly curls. I couldn't resist kissing her brow, when she said my name again. I didn't want to get my hopes up too high, but dammit it was impossible.

I searched through her shabby dresser and discovered a few of my belongings in the bottom drawer. It wasn't much, just an old t-shirt, a pair of boxers and my favourite silver button down, but it was something. She had taken my things and hidden them in the home where she once lived with her piece of shit husband. I slipped on my boxers and t-shirt and climbed into bed with her.

It wasn't the bed she had shared with her husband and I was thankful. I didn't want to think of him. I didn't want to imagine him sleeping beside her, making love to her, or even breathing the same air. I hated him. I didn't want to think of him anymore. I hoped Harry Potter and Blaise had found him and murdered him and perhaps even set him on fire. I'd feel better then.

I smiled at the very thought and curled around Hermione. I buried my nose in her hair, tossed my arm around her waist and pressed my chest into her back. I could feel the stiffness in her muscles abate and even her breathing seemed more relaxed. I finally managed to explore her gentle mound. It was calling to me and I'd always been a curious sort. The lightest flutter under my palm made me catch my breath. I'd never felt anything like it and held her tighter.

I wondered what was taking Blaise so long to find a fucking Healer. What the hell kind of backwoods place did Johns live in anyway? It probably sounded more insulting than I meant it in my head. Hermione patted my hand and I almost leapt from the bed.

"Get off." She mumbled, trying to roll away from me.

"Hermione?" I whispered, suddenly nervous.

"Don't, don't touch me." It was difficult to understand what she was saying, but I felt my heart drop. Did she know it was me? Did she hate me?

"Hermione, its Draco, love." She started to cry then and I didn't know what to do.

"No, no is not. He…he didn't come. I waited, he didn't come. Have to get up. Cari…" Her voice dropped off and I panicked. I rolled her onto her back, stroking the side of her face. She kept frowning, but her eyes didn't open.

"Granger, look at me."

"Hmm, he calls me that. Not you. Go 'way." Alright, well it was obvious she didn't think she was talking to me.

"I call you Granger because you call me Malfoy. It's what we do. Please love, open your eyes. I've come for you. I know I'm late, I'm so terribly sorry. We've looked for you for what felt like ages. I'm here now."

She smiled as I lay back down beside her. She smiled and curled into my chest. She smiled and sighed and I held her tight.


	9. Awakenings

**AN: I realise this chapter contains what could be considered 'sensitive material' and I wouldn't be surprised by less than stellar comments...but, it was always going to go this way. I valiantly tried to alter it to suit the desires of my readers and the story suffered for it. The thing about fiction is...they say you can make it whatever you like...but this particular story, well I tried that and it lost everything that made it exactly what it is. It's life...swirling in an imagery world...**

* * *

Chapter 9 – Awakenings

* * *

(Hermione)

* * *

I was floating, floating, floating away and it was beautiful. I took a breath, wait the dead breathe? Pain. Stabbing pain. I expected to be…well, I didn't expect to feel sunlight, at least that's what I thought it was, stabbing my eyelids. I couldn't be dead. I'd always thought there wasn't any pain in death. Could all the books have been wrong? Wait, warmth. While there was pain, there was also warmth and pressure and breath. Someone was beside me. Oh gods. Had he really cleaned me up and laid in bed beside me? I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. I wished I were dead.

"Granger?" Merlin's beard, that wasn't Taylor. Draco? Why was he here? What the hell was going on?

I didn't want him to see me like this. I must look a fright. That was the worst beating I'd ever taken and I'd taken a few. Sure, it was easy to say 'three strikes and you're out' but the practice of it was something completely different. I really thought it was over and it wasn't as terrifying as I thought it would be. It was…it was calm, riddled with excruciating pain but there wasn't any terror. It was surprisingly peaceful. I remembered a flitting feeling of worry, for Carina, but after that passed I was floating and it was beautiful.

"Hermione?" There was that voice again. I must be dreaming. He wouldn't be here. He hadn't come for me. It was my broken self playing tricks on me. I wouldn't want him here now. I wouldn't want him to see me like this. I wouldn't want anyone to see me like this.

I was ashamed. I was Hermione Granger and I allowed myself to be duped by pretty words in the midst of mind-numbing heartbreak and I allowed my body to be as broken as my mind. Well, at least my body caught up, took long enough.

I tried to move, but those warm arms tightened around me and I panicked. It was Taylor. He wasn't letting me go. He was never going to let me. I was trapped. It was my life. I had done it to myself but it didn't make me feel any better about it. I hated my life. I hated what I had done. I hated myself.

I opened my eyes, but the sunlight was too much and I squinted. Guest room. Well that was something; at least I wasn't in his bed. I was in my bed. He was muttering something, but my ears were ringing. Gods, Carina, she must need me. I have to get up. I can't lie about. Godric only knows how long I've been down. My breasts are aching and I know it's been too long. Carina must be having quite the fit. Then it all came rushing back. The words, the pushing, the shoving, the slapping, the punching, the kicking and I realised I couldn't feel Leo. I couldn't feel anything. I was completely numb.

"No, no, let me go. He's not yours. You can't take him. You can't." I was crying then, sobbing. I was pushing against the arms around me, holding me so tight. I didn't want arms to hold me. Did he have his sister take them away? Am I truly a prisoner now?

"Granger. You've got to calm down." Calm down, how can I calm down? Wait. Taylor doesn't call me Granger. He calls me sweetheart in that sickly sweet voice that makes me brace myself for the onslaught. He calls me Herms to laugh at me when my eyes flash with anger. Never Granger, I'm not a Granger, not anymore. I'm Hermione Johns and he never lets me forget it.

I'm weak. My arms are so heavy, it's hard to move, but I've got too. There are people depending on me. Innocent, beautiful children depending on me and I can't let them down the way I've let myself down. I have to be stronger than the soreness of my limbs, the heaviness of my eyelids. I have to get out of this bed, but I'm afraid. I'm still afraid.

His hands are so gentle I'm crying again. Taylor was never gentle. I don't think he knows the meaning of the word. These hands are different, but I can't process it, not yet. Fingertips are pushing my hair off my forehead, off my face. Thumbs are wiping away my tears and I'm squeezing my eyes shut so tightly because if this isn't real, and it's Taylor, I don't know what I'll do.

"I'm sorry, Granger." Sorry? Why is he sorry? He's never been sorry before, I don't understand and my head is pounding. "I'm sorry we didn't come for you sooner. I'm sorry we couldn't find you. I'm sorry I left you. I'm sorry you couldn't stay. I'm sorry I ever let you go. I don't know if you can even hear me, but if you can, remember this moment. It isn't often that one can say they were the recipient of a heartfelt Draco Malfoy apology." He's lying. He's trying to fool me. I never spoke of Malfoy to Taylor; I didn't have a death wish. I couldn't even imagine that conversation. 'Taylor? Sorry, that child you've raised and the one I'm carrying? They're not yours, I'm sure you suspected. I know you knew I was pregnant when we married and you pretended she was yours. It was pretty obvious she wasn't, sorry about that. She's Draco Malfoy's daughter. Leonidas is his as well, thanks for allowing me to visit Ginny; he'd never exist without your permission.' And then, I would be DEAD.

"Stop. He didn't come for me. I don't like this dream anymore. I wish to wake." It was one thing to dream the love of your life would come swooping in and rescue you from a hell of your own making. It was quite another to listen to your pitiful excuse of a husband whisper honeyed words in order to lull you into a false sense of calm.

"Granger you open those stubborn eyes and look at me. I was late, almost too late, but I'm here. We're all here. Harry, Ginny, Blaise and even my mother, they're all here, waiting for you." This is real? It isn't a dream?

I felt him pry my arm from my eyes. Warm lips pressed against my forehead and something was tickling my face. I cracked one of my eyes to see strikingly blond hair dangling in my face.

"Draco…" I vaguely knew that voice. It was riddled with pain but I'd recognise the aristocratic timbre of Narcissa Malfoy anywhere. "You mustn't overwhelm her."

"Mum, she was speaking." The desperation in his voice was palpable.

"Darling, she's been through quite a traumatic experience. You must allow her to heal. It's only been three days…"

"No mum, she's waking, I know it." He was right. He was looking across me toward the door. I assumed Narcissa was hovering in the doorway. I was staring at him. He was a right mess. His hair was terribly mussed and dirty as well. There were purplish bruises beneath his eyes and I knew he hadn't been sleeping. If the subtle sinking of his cheeks were any indication, he hadn't been eating as well.

"Draco, the Healer has already done all he can do. You know as well as I, her injuries were quite extensive. Don't look at me like that. She'll wake; I'm simply asking my son to allow the woman he obviously loves ample opportunity to heal before declaring yourself."

"Mother, you're being ridiculous. If I had come for her, if we had found her…" He took a shaky breath and I kept waiting for him to look at me, but he didn't. "I don't care if she doesn't love me anymore. I'm not going to pretend I don't love her, not anymore. She'll wake." I was planning on speaking then. I had things to say, explanations to make. Instead, I was distracted by the earth shattering wail of my daughter.

"Leo." My voice was small and lost in the screams which grew louder. I don't know why I asked for him, it wasn't as if they could hand him to me, but…

"Cissa, I'm sorry, but she's bloody inconsolable. I've tried everything. I know you said not to disturb you, but…" I had slowly turned toward the familiar voice. Ginny was bouncing Carina in her arms, yet tears and bogeys streamed down her face as Ginny's mouth fell open. "She's awake. Why didn't you tell me?" I sighed and tried again.

"Leo." I suppose they thought I was a bit mental and I could understand that. I was asking about my son while staring at my daughter, but I needed to know if he was alright. It was important to me and I needed them to understand.

If I wasn't mistaken, Narcissa's thin lips stretched into a small smile. She nodded slightly and walked away. Strange woman. Ginny took a step forward, then another and finally another until she perched herself on the edge of the bed. Draco peppered my face in kisses and as much as I wanted to lose myself in him, I was set on Leo. Why weren't they answering me?

"How long has she been awake?"

"I didn't bloody know she was awake. Merlin she has a set of lungs on her, doesn't she?"

"Gets it…from…her…father." I managed to stretch my arm out and stroke Carina's foot. Her wails settled into displeased whimpers as she squirmed in Ginny's arms before she spotted me. Carina's little hands kept bumping her fists together in frustration.

"Did she…make a bloody joke? Carina, no." Ginny grasped her fist and she screeched. I smiled, gesturing for her. Draco was eerily silent and it scared me a bit.

"Granger." The simple word said so much, tears pricked my eyes and I wasn't sure why. They had come for me. I shouldn't be crying. His palms were on my cheeks, forcing me to look at him. "Don't ever scare me like that again." He breathed, his silver clouds drenched in an ebbing pain. He kissed me so gently, as if I would break. His forehead pressed against mine, a shudder passing through him. I'd never see him so completely unraveled.

"Hi." It was stupid, but what did you say after so much time had passed? Draco laughed and it startled Ginny, which of course, startled Carina causing a cacophony of ungodly screams.

"Give her…to me." My throat was parched and my lips were dry making it hard to speak, but I needed Carina as much as she needed me.

Draco looked as though he wanted to argue with me, yet instead, he propped a few pillows against the headboard and gingerly sat me against them. Ginny tried to lay Carina in my arms, but she was putting up a fight, keeping her tiny fist wrapped in her long red hair.

"Cari, more?" She spun toward my voice, hiccupping. I patted my breast, ignoring the ache and asked again. She practically leapt from Ginny's arms into mine. She thumped her tightly wound fist against the other once more and pulled at my nightgown. I knew Ginny would understand long before Draco.

"I suppose I didn't feed her enough then." She looked guilty. She shouldn't feel guilty. She cared for my child while I was…I didn't want to think about that now. My daughter needed me. This I could do. I unbuttoned my nightgown, ignoring the flush rising in my cheeks. I'd never breastfed my daughter in front of an audience before. Taylor had always snarled and had another pint whenever I fed her.

I chanced a glance at Draco as I helped Carina to latch on, breathing a sigh of relief. She hummed as she greedily sucked, her little fist furling and unfurling against my breast. Ginny stuck a pillow under my elbow and I was grateful, Draco simply stared.

"Does it hurt?" Of course he'd ask that. I almost laughed, but he was serious. Oh, I understood then. He'd never seen such a thing and apparently he was enthralled by it.

"No…it hurts if I don't actually. Gin, I need…"

"Yeah, I'll get it." She shook her head, returning with a pitcher of water. I drank it greedily. I was so thirsty; it made me wonder what sorts of Potions I'd been given.

"It was probably the baths. Malfoy here bathed you and Cissa warned him the salts could dehydrate you but he swore by the healing properties of the cachet. He's quite stubborn." I appreciated the simple fact Ginny avoided the proverbial elephant in the room. I wasn't ready.

"She's beautiful." Draco had finally settled beside me and stroked Carina's blonde hair.

"Malfoy here refused to leave your side. He's a bit obsessed. It's unhealthy. Don't look at me like that. You haven't slept, you've only eaten what your mum forced down your throat and Carina points at you whenever you wander through the room.

"You haven't…"

"I couldn't. I was afraid if…I mean if you…I wanted to.."

"If I died you wanted to spend every moment with me, even if I didn't know you were there." The tears were pricking my eyes again. I would have done the same thing, I understood. I was alright, well as good could be expected. He had a lifetime. I had a lifetime. We had a lifetime and the very thought was terrifying.

I dislodged Carina from my left breast and maneuvered her to my right with difficulty. I was so weak it really made me wonder to the extent of my injuries.

"Carina is quite taken with Cissa…"

"How bad was it?" Ginny and I spoke at the same time, trying to fill the lull in awkward conversation.

"Ohh Hermione, I don't think…I mean, you just woke up. Let's make Malfoy wash and perhaps we'll get a meal into the both of you. I'm sure Carina would love to visit you. She doesn't say much, but she gets her point across."

"Malfoy you heard Ginny, go and bathe." I tried to smile, but my face felt swollen. My arms were full with Carina so it wasn't as if I could inspect it myself.

"Malfoy, she needs a Potion, her face feels numb." I don't know how Ginny managed to read my mind, but she was right. I supposed there was some sort of nerve damage or something.

"Granger, Hermione drink this." Draco had left and returned and I hadn't noticed. I wasn't feeling very well. Something felt wrong, it all felt wrong. Ginny leaned over quickly and scooped Carina from my shaking arms and burped her. I dutifully swallowed, unsure of what I was drinking but it wasn't unpleasant.

"Don't panic. You've a bit of damage, let the Potion do its' job." Draco removed the pillows behind my back and eased me down. I didn't want to lie down. I didn't want to sleep either, but apparently my body had other ideas. Vaguely I heard Ginny demanding Draco get his 'stank arse' into the shower before my eyes closed and I realised they never answered my question about my son.

I don't know how long I slept, but when my eyes opened again the sun was low in the sky and I was alone. It was eerily quiet and I couldn't help but wonder if it had all been a dream. A beautiful dream filled with wonder, but a dream just the same. It pained me to admit it, though I had to confess I was feeling better.

My skin was on fire and I didn't understand exactly why. My chest was constricted and I didn't know if it was from the bruising of my ribs or the panic. My hands dropped to my stomach and I expelled a harsh, shaky, sob of relief. I didn't know how it was possible, but my son rolled beneath my hands and I wept.

"He's alright. He's alright. He's alright." Once I started crying, it seemed I couldn't stop. My shoulders were shaking, hell my entire body was shaking though I didn't know if it was from relief or from my traumatic experience.

"Granger?" I heard him before I saw him, and I cried harder. He was here, he was really here and it wasn't a dream.

* * *

(The Search)

* * *

"What do you mean you haven't found him? What the fuck kind of Auror are you if you can't find a fucking Squib?!" Draco Malfoy bellowed in the garden of the Johns cottage, resisting the urge to punch Harry Potter in his stupid scar head.

"Malfoy, I don't know what you expect me to do. I've sent Aurors to the Parkinson Estate and no one's bloody there. Their house elves haven't been found and the Ministry is on high alert. Frankly, the best thing we can do is get her out of here and wait. Johns doesn't seem to be the smartest bloke and he'll probably return here." Harry paced the sparse dirt path with a mounting frustration.

He understood Malfoy's anger, he wasn't alone in that, but the manner in which he was raging didn't help matters in the least. Harry had immediately contacted the Minister for Magic and wanted posters were strung around Diagon Alley and even Hogsmeade, but the Parkinsons were obviously in hiding. It was horrid enough feeling as if he were the worst friend in the world but to listen to the pain of Draco Malfoy, it made everything worse.

"I don't bloody know Potter; it's your job to save the world now isn't it? I almost lost her, you realise that? That bastard almost killed my son. My gods, I didn't even know I was having a son and he almost died. If it hadn't been for that practically useless Nanny, there's no telling what could have happened, you realise that? If I find him first Potter…"

"Don't say it Malfoy. If you don't say it, I can't hear it. If I don't hear it then if it happens I have plausible deniability. Listen, I'm to meet Blaise at the pub down the road. He has a few unsavory ideas and while I'm sure you'd jump at the chance to involve yourself, she needs you. Ginny won't let me see her. She's afraid I'll upset Hermione and she's probably right, I have a knack for it. I can't just stay here and do nothing." Harry stopped rambling and glanced over at a particularly pale Draco Malfoy.

Draco was sitting on a cracked stone bench, staring into the nothingness with red-rimmed eyes. His head had fallen, but his eyes; it was his eyes which pained Harry. He still wasn't sure how he felt about the former Slytherin, but it was obvious he was completely in love with Hermione Granger. Harry wanted to be able to offer some sort of comforting words, but he didn't have any. He didn't know how to comfort someone he'd spent most of his childhood detesting. He was incapable of understanding their love but he knew it transcended anything he'd ever known.

"What if we'd been too late, Potter?" Harry swallowed hard hand adjusted the waist of his Muggle jeans. He sat beside Draco, uncomfortable with the entire situation. He awkwardly patted Draco's back and cleared his throat.

"We weren't. I mean, we found her and your kids…is it strange that out of this entire mess the hardest things for me to fathom is the fact Hermione and you have children together? I know it's selfish, but I've got to focus on something…"

"You really are quite a selfish wanker aren't you Potter?" Draco shoved Harry, hoping the bastard would fall off the bench. He was quite disappointed when Harry simple wobbled.

"I already said I was, didn't I? I've got to go and meet Blaise. He might wish to have a word with you at some point." Harry took a peek through the grimy windows of the cottage and almost smiled.

Narcissa and Ginny were sitting at the small eating table watching Carina shove biscuits in her mouth. He couldn't envision it going over well with Hermione, but she was still in bed it seemed.

"You might want to go in there. Your mum and Ginny are uhm well; they're allowing your daughter to eat herself ill on biscuits." Draco moved so quickly, Harry managed a laugh.

"It's not funny Potter, Granger will kill us all. She hasn't even been weaned and my mum is plying her with sweets?" It was obvious the poor wizard was completely panicked. Harry blinked and Draco was gone, running through the garden and flinging open the creaking door.

He laughed and wandered down the hill while Draco Malfoy reprimanded prim and proper Narcissa Malfoy.

* * *

(Draco)

* * *

I couldn't believe it. Harry Potter was right. My daughter, it's still so strange to say that. My daughter was absolutely covered in biscuits. She looked happy, but that wasn't a bloody surprise. What child wouldn't be happy to be covered in chocolate?

She smiled at me, Carina smiled at me and I almost melted. It was her eyes. They sparkled, just like her mother's and then she waved at me. I mean, I'd barely spent any time with her at all, but it was almost as if she knew who I was.

"Hi!" Carina stamped her little feet on the wooden chair and I caught her just before she tumbled onto her head. "My da?" She poked my chest with her chubby forefinger, but she was looking at Ginny.

"Very good, Carina. See I told you she was brilliant. Your mummy is still sleeping, but I'm sure your daddy would love to give you a bath, wouldn't you?" Ginny glared at me and I freely admit it was absolutely terrifying. Therefore I did the only thing I could do; I nodded and took Carina directly to the bath.

I hadn't the slightest idea what the hell I was doing. I managed to fill the tub with warm water and after sniffing a few of the glass bottles, chose one that was the least offensive. Carina, on the other hand was running in circles around me screaming about bubbles, though I couldn't be sure. I hadn't enough experience deciphering her muddled words.

"You in it." Carina pointed at the bubbles and managed to pull her dress over her head. Her sticky fingers were pulling at my slacks and while normally I would be quite put out, I didn't mind. I pulled off her little black shoes, despite all the kicking, but I wasn't sure if her nappy stayed on or came off.

"It's your bath. Come on then, let's get you all clean." Apparently the nappy did not go into the bath water as Carina managed to wiggle herself out of it.

It was awkward trying to pick her up without touching anything inappropriate. I just gathered her under her arms and put her in the water. She splashed me immediately and laughed about it no less. Carina was more interested in splashing then she was in allowing me to wash her, but we managed. Her hair was the hardest part. She detested the soap and the rinsing as well. Her heavy curls melted into tangled waves and all I could do was hold her in a warm fluffy towel until her tears abated. I kissed her forehead and Carina snuggled against me and my heart felt so full, I could barely breathe.

I don't know how long I sat there, on the side of the tub, cradling a slumbering, damp Carina, but it felt right. I felt like this is exactly how it was supposed to be. I felt like a father, not for the sake of continuing the Malfoy family line, but for the sake of…well for the sake of her. I hadn't known her long and barely knew her at all, but she was a part of me. I'd do anything for her, anything at all.

My mother sighed when she opened the door and saw us and I didn't understand it. I honestly thought she'd be, well I didn't expect happiness really but perhaps some semblance of something positive. I forgot myself for a moment, my mother is Narcissa Malfoy, and such emotions do not extend to her only child.

"Draco, she'll catch her death. The poor child needs to be dressed and put to bed." She stepped forward as if she wished to take Carina for me and I couldn't bear it. I brushed passed her and after wandering down the corridor opening each door, I finally discovered which room was hers. I laid her on the bed and magicked her into a fuzzy nightgown. I didn't want to disturb her, she looked so peaceful. I couldn't help but push her unruly blonde curls from her forehead and kiss her brow.

"You will never interfere with me and my daughter again." It was the first thing I said to my mother upon discovering her spying on me.

"Draco, it's unseemly for you to care for her. Why on earth do you think there are house elves?" She tittered, the bloody bint. As if I wished to raise my child, my children in the same unfeeling manner I was raised? No, I wanted better than that and I knew Hermione would demand better. I wouldn't disappoint her, not again. She'd suffer enough disappointments to last more than a lifetime.

I didn't even realise where my feet were taking me until I could see her trembling on her bed. Her shoulders were shaking and she had a pillow pressed against her face to muffle the sounds of her tears.

"Granger?" It didn't take me but a minute to cross the room and climb into bed beside her. She flinched, but it didn't hurt my feelings. It simply fueled the rage I kept specifically for Taylor Johns.

"You're here. You're really here." Hermione whimpered and the moments between her whispers and her melting in my arms were entirely too long for my liking.

"I'm here. Carina's here and it feels as though this one is quite active." The gentle swell rolled against me and I was excited. I had missed every moment of Carina tumbling within the woman I love and I didn't wish to miss another moment of anything.

I don't know how long I laid with her, but eventually she fell into a fitful slumber and I escaped the heat of her body to speak with my mother. She was sitting in the front garden, gazing at the stars but she stepped into the cottage when she heard the floorboards creak.

"Do you know they haven't any elves? I suppose it doesn't matter, Mr. Potter has instructed us to make preparations to leave the moment Hermione is up to travel." My mother avoided my eyes which made me wary. It was an old habit of hers, and I was almost certain she wasn't even aware of it. Whenever she was forced to be the bearer of bad news, she smiled and flitted about, never able to look in the person's eyes.

"Where am I to take her? I can't take her to the Manor and I wouldn't dream of taking her to my flat, not until I know it's safe." Ginny crept silently into the quaint living area and sat before the hearth to warm herself from the draft.

"Shell Cottage, I expect. Bill and Fleur don't live far from here. They're not exactly thrilled by the prospect, but they'll do it. More for Hermione and Carina than for you, what with the way my brother rails against you…"

"I understand Ginny." I wasn't of a mind to argue with her, there wasn't a need. It wasn't her fault her oldest brother harboured animosity toward me. It was my own fault and frankly I deserved it, but that wasn't what was bothering my mother. "She's better today. I felt him you know." I watched my mother's back stiffen and when she turned to look at Ginny, the pity in her eyes was downright palpable.

They knew something. They knew something and were keeping it between them and a dark feeling of foreboding settled in my gut. It grew worse when my mother dragged me to the sofa by the hand and wiped her eyes.

"You haven't told him? Narcissa, he has a right to know." Ginny was absolutely aghast and stroked her forehead with such a fervor I wasn't sure how her skin remained on bone.

"I'd rather he hear it from you. I fear he wouldn't believe a word from my lips and think me a vindictive old woman. He trusts you and…" My mother's hands fluttered but it didn't stop her from pouring a large glass of wine.

"You'd rather he raged at me." Ginny growled, she actually growled at my mother. I couldn't stand their riddles any longer.

"What the fuck are you going on about?"

"Malfoy listen, I know we're sort of…well, we're friends and I need you to remember that because this is bloody important." Ginny remained on the floor near the hearth and I stared into those blue eyes seeking truth, but seeing only trepidation.

"Take my wand." I tossed it to her without hesitation. She was my friend and I didn't want my temper to get the best of me. Ginny nodded and swallowed, gripping it tightly in her freckled hands and stared into the fire.

"Mara isn't what we'd call an accomplished witch. Blaise did a bit of research about her and she never had proper schooling. She tried her best, I'll give her that, which is better than doing nothing, but you have to understand Malfoy…" Ginny sniffled, wiping her face on the sleeve of her peasant blouse. When she looked at me, her eyes were watery and I knew she was trying to tell me something important, but I wasn't a bloody mind reader.

"I don't understand. I don't understand at all, just tell me already." Ginny crawled across the floor and grabbed my knees, almost desperately.

"The Protection Charm, Malfoy. It wasn't strong enough and by the time we got here…"

"No, you're wrong. I felt him. She's better now. You can't…you can't…you don't get to take that away from me." I looked to my mother but she was bloody crying.

I can't remember ever having seen my mother truly cry before. There were tears just streaming down her face, leaving streaks of black down her cheeks. It had to be bad if Narcissa Malfoy was fucking crying and I couldn't accept it. I didn't want to accept it. I had barely discovered my family and here they were telling me…

"Draco, she was in a terrible state when we arrived. We're lucky we didn't lose her. Taylor Johns really was quite…thorough." My mom shivered with obvious revulsion, dabbing the corners of her eyes which were finally locked on mine. "Without the Charm, we would have lost them both. It did its job, though I wish it had been stronger, though with the extent of the damage…"

"You're telling me my son is going to die, aren't you?" I choked on the words and the bile was rising in my throat so quickly I knew I was going to be ill. Ginny was much faster than I ever gave her credit and shoved the trash pail into my hands as the contents of my stomach were violently expunged.

"She was so broken, Malfoy. If Mara hadn't done what she did, when we arrived Hermione would have been too far gone. Mara saved Hermione's life by valiantly trying to save your son. I love her too, Malfoy. I am sorry, I'm so terribly sorry. I can't even imagine the…"

"Does she know?" Ginny had a point. I knew losing this child was going to be excruciating, but losing Hermione? Fuck, I wouldn't survive that.

I hated myself. I hated not being able to do anything except wait. I hated that we couldn't find her. I hated that Taylor Johns ever existed. I hated that he killed my son.

"I couldn't tell her. I know I should have, I'm sorry, truly I am, but I wanted her to have a fighting chance. I didn't want her to give up and I don't know…"

"Ginny stop, I understand. I'll tell her." I cried then, great wracking sobs and I wasn't even ashamed.

I didn't shake off the thin arms holding me tight, I didn't have the strength. Ginny crooned into my ear, but I couldn't make out the words over the sound of my own tears. My chest hurt, my heart was broken into thousands of shards, but I couldn't let Hermione see my weakness.

She would see it in my eyes. It was better to alleviate my pain now, at least that's what I kept telling myself as I sobbed like a small child.

"Is the little bitch dead then?" Ginny shrieked, leaping away from me and even my mother retreated from the cold, apathetic voice.

I wiped my face hastily and stumbled to my feet. He was standing by the door, as if he belonged there with quite a nasty sneer on his rugged face. I hated him on sight and assumed the feeling was mutual. We stood in silence studying each other. He wasn't a bad looking fellow I suppose, but I wasn't concerned with his level of attraction. Ginny shoved my wand into my hand and I felt empowered, itching for him to make one wrong move.

"So you're the bloke who's been fucking my wife." Finally, I had a name to go with the face.

Taylor Johns. Then I saw red.


	10. Battle Lines

**AN: Alright then, so it's been taking me forever and a day to update...sorry about that. Life happens I suppose. The editing is probably shoddy at best, but hey...better than none at all. Enjoy! As always...thanks for reading *kisses***

* * *

Chapter 10 – Battle Lines

* * *

(Fear &amp; Loathing)

* * *

Ramses Parkinson attempted to talk sense into his Squib son, but the boy wouldn't hear of it. Merlin forbid he listened for once in his life. He was absolutely determined to return to the scene of his crime. It was madness, absolute madness and worst of all, he had convinced his lesbian sister to aid him. Ramses didn't care if his daughter was a lesbian, not really. He supposed it was better than being the wizarding world's common slag like her older sister Pansy. Of course he hadn't actually spoken to her lately, having washed his hands of her years before, but it was safe to assume her lifestyle had not altered much if at all.

"Taylor, you are being utterly ridiculous. It is absolute madness to return. It's not as if you married some nobody Muggle. You married and accosted Hermione Granger. It is in our best interest to leave the matter be for the moment. I'll have my people scour the morning papers, Muggle as well as the Daily Prophet. If there is even a hint of …"

"Of what father? Do you mean to wait until it's been reported that she's dead? If I have a bloody chance to come away clean from this, I need to make sure. I can't have her reaching out toward her magical friends. Can you imagine if Harry Potter caught wind of this? It's bad enough she's apparently been fucking Draco Malfoy!" Taylor Johns' body shook, not with fear but with rage.

Ramses quite believed his son should be terrified of discovery, but he wasn't. It stole his breath away to think his only son was a sociopath. Taylor was concerned with his own welfare. The idea that the woman he married, had claimed to love no less, was quite possibly dying from his hand, meant absolutely nothing to him. He swallowed hard against the revulsion, willing the bile to remain beneath the surface. Ramses surmised eventually he would be forced to end his own son. It was the only way the rest of humanity would be safe from his depravity. Perhaps he wouldn't be forced to draw his wand against Taylor. If situations were orchestrated just so, it could hardly be considered his fault if Taylor Johns were to befall into a carefully orchestrated web of Ministry justice. Yes, that thought process suited Ramses Parkinson just fine.

"Father, you're not even listening! Pixie here has volunteered to take me back. You wouldn't have to leave the estate. Perhaps that is more to your liking." Taylor picked up a mosaic vase and hurled it into the fireplace, feeling no joy when it shattered.

"I cannot allow you to do this, not again. You've brought shame upon our family and for what? What purpose did it serve Taylor? I understand you're angry. Hell I've spent most of my life angry! It's unconscionable to think my only son and heir is a bloody Squib. I've made allowances for your behaviour. If it weren't for me you'd be locked in the Janus Thickey Ward until your dying breath!" Ramses smashed his goblet onto the small table beside him with a growl.

"More likely Azkaban the way he's going about…" Pixie adjusted her robes with an easy roll of her eyes.

She and Taylor had been closer than she and Pansy ever were, but that didn't mean she was especially devoted to his ridiculous cause. His only wish was to wreck havoc in the wizarding world if only for the simple fact he had been rejected by forces stronger than himself. Pixie understood, to a certain extent. She realised if she had truly loved Draco Malfoy she would be completely heartbroken, probably wallowing in misery surrounded by an exorbitant amount of chocolate. Taylor on the other hand, well, he was consumed with a fury she couldn't understand.

"Taylor, why does it matter?" Pixie inspected her plain fingernails, feigning interest. Her curiosity was piqued but it was nothing more than that.

"Why does it matter? Why?" Taylor pulled his dirty blond hair in hard fists, his face smattered with red blotches.

"Calm yourself would you? You're so bloody dramatic. Yes, why does it matter? I mean if you think about it, it's obvious you never cared for her as much as you claimed. I saw the damage. I can't imagine you loving her considering her state. I might be a fool in the ways of love Taylor, but I know that was not it." Pixie huffed with irritation. She really wished their father would speak up, yet he remained silent.

"Honestly? I married the bitch for fame, but I didn't get a bloody bit of it now did I? She didn't want to be famous. She wanted a quiet fucking life now didn't she? I was already stuck with her, might as well make her as miserable as she made me. I forced her to stay in Cornwall and reveled in her hatred of it. So what if I smacked her around a bit? You would too if you lived with her. That damn kid squalling all the time and she ain't even mine!" Taylor screamed with rage, thrashing about as if he were a madman.

"Are you sure?" Ramses stroked the lines in his face, his family ring tapping the new glass filled with a deep rich red wine.

"Of course I'm bloody sure! She was up the duff before I ever met her." Taylor crumpled onto the floor, fingering the intricate Oriental carpet with one palm. "I thought…can you believe I actually thought the boy was mine? She fooled me right good she did." Pixie almost pitied her brother when his shoulders began to shake.

For a moment she thought perhaps he was quite redeemable after all, but flashes of Hermione Granger's battered and bruised body made her think otherwise. She loved her brother, but he wasn't a good person and it was time she stopped clinging to a belief of otherwise. There was of course the little matter of being absolutely terrified of his anger. She'd witnessed him lashing out quite a bit when they were children and considering the disaster he'd left in his wake, she wasn't of a mind to incite his fury by refusing him anything, regardless of what it may be.

"Son, what do you wish to accomplish? What's your end goal here? Do you simply wish to punish her for rebuffing the fame of wizardom? Do you detest her very existence for managing to shag a more formidable wizard than yourself? I mean, let's face it shall we? You're not even a wizard are you? You're simply a Squib and though it's through no fault of your own, perhaps now is the time to simply accept your limitations. I'm bloody well tired of this entire conversation. It's utterly ridiculous and I refuse to take part in yet another of your schemes. It wasn't enough I managed to suppress your nefarious deeds in Sheffield was it?" Ramses could hardly bear to look upon his son.

Quite honestly it made him a bit ill to reflect upon the state of affairs he wandered into a few years passed. It had been a horrific sight really. Ramses had spilled the contents of his stomach upon entering the sea side cottage. He closed his eyes, willing the horrific splashes of blood upon the stone walls to erase themselves from his memory. He knew such a thing wasn't truly possible if he wished to retain the things which made him who he is, however it was not above him to wish.

He remembered wondering which end was up when faced with the battered remains of Taylor's first wife. He had pressed a perfumed handkerchief to his delicate nostrils, willing the scent of iron and copper to dissipate while Taylor babbled about yet another accident. Even Ramses had to admit, the desecration of his first wife hadn't been nearly as traumatic as the second. She had managed to crawl, pulling herself along with the ragged remains of her fingernails, spitting out mouthfuls of blood and pieces of teeth before finally succumbing to her wounds, which she clutched his Italian shoes.

"I wish to feel her throat pulsate against my palms. I wish to listen to her gasps as the air is sucked from her lungs. I wish to see her big brown eyes fill with tears while she silently begs me to release her and I squeeze tighter and tighter until nary a breath is released. I wish to listen to the crack of her neck and feel the flop of her head against my chest before I drop her to the ground. I wish to take my favourite hunting knife and slash through her skin until there's nothing left but little shreds. I want to hold her heart in my hand, feel it pulsating in my hand until it beats no more. I want to…"

"ENOUGH!" Ramses slapped his only son so hard the boy stumbled with a low growl of rage. "You disgust me. You've a bloodlust that'll never be quenched. I should have listened to your mother. She always said there was something dark within you and I refused to hear of it. Look where it's got me?! A Squib son who believes it's perfectly acceptable to murder whomsoever he pleases. It wasn't enough you allowed a childish fit of rage to overcome you upon meeting your eldest sister. It wasn't enough you bludgeoned your first wife to pieces. The poor Muggle woman never even suspected she had married such a bastard. Your second wife was a lovely woman. I always wondered if your children would have been magical. She was a Squib as well, but we never got the chance to find out. You decided it would be best to introduce your family to your bride if she were smashed to bits. I'm surprised you never managed to dismember any of them. And then came Hermione Granger. She was always a formidable witch, but you managed to break her down and shove her in a gilded cage. Did you really believe you'd be capable of holding onto her forever? She's Hermione Granger for fuck's sake, you poor deluded fool. I, for one will not lift a bloody finger this time. I've done enough damage, coddling your deranged behaviours. Merlin forgive me." Ramses Parkinson's knees weakened and he struggled to remain on his feet in the moments of his deepest despair. "Son, I need you to leave. I need you to leave right now before I change my mind. I can't do this anymore. I won't. I've done too much for you. Don't call on me again. I'll give you a few moments to collect yourself before I call for the Aurors." Ramses slumped into his chair, ignoring the blinding rage apparent on his son's face and the abject horror of his daughter Pixie, which really was his undoing.

Taylor Johns Parkinson growled low and deep, his bright eyes darkened to a dangerous shade or murderous blue. He snarled, his lip curling in obvious derision, his sticky blond hair clinging to the droplets on his forehead. His blazing eyes flicked toward his sister for a scant moment, causing her to fumble backwards until she was almost clear out of the room.

Pixie didn't wish to witness her brother's rage, but she knew fleeing would be futile. It wasn't as if she could Apparate from the middle of the parlor. She was certain their father had adjusted the wards in order to keep them in and visitors out, but she fervently wished he hadn't. She'd do anything to be able to Apparate away from the madness and pretend it had never existed.

Her throat was stuck shut in a bout of badly timed nerves and while she knew Taylor had every intention of harming their father, she couldn't force herself to intervene. She managed to pull her wand from the pocket of her purple dress but held it with shaky fingers. Pixie knew she'd never be able to properly cast a spell so she remained still and silent, which most probably saved her life.

Taylor stalked forward, hissing until bits of spittle dripped from his chin as he gazed upon his father. Ramses Parkinson hadn't opened his eyes nor had he even acknowledged the remaining presence of his children. For a moment he believed he heard the gentle crunch of glass beneath the sole of a shoe, yet before his eyes could flicker open, he was struck about the head with such force, he immediately fell into unconsciousness.

"Taylor, that's enough. I can't have you killing Daddy. It would…it would…"

"It would what Pixie?"

"It would be…unseemly." Pixie managed to whisper, her wide eyes never leaving the fireplace poker firmly gripped in Taylor's ruggedly strong hands.

"Unseemly, hmmm well I suppose we can't have that, now can we? Father would be most unpleased if I were to bring further shame to the name he stripped from me. Heaven forbid my father give me my birth right. Isn't that right Father?" Taylor kicked the inert form of Ramses without a shred of remorse.

"Taylor, please leave him be. I'll bring you back to Cornwall if you like. We'd have to step outside first but…" Pixie's high voice squeaked loudly when Taylor tangled his fingers in her dark hair.

"They're waiting for me out there aren't they? You're trying to trick me. I bet…you're not even my sister. We don't look a bit alike now do we? You just wish to lure me to the Aurors and…"

"No, Taylor. Father said he would contact them after you left, but he's completely incapacitated. There's no one waiting for us, I swear it. I'll go with you. I'll Apparate us to Cornwall and you can see if Hermione is still alive and we'll take it from there I suppose." Pixie quaked in her shoes, not wishing to become another victim of Taylor's but fearing it would be so.

Gently, she untangled his fist and held his hand in her own. She tugged him lightly and Taylor dropped the poker, readily following after her. Pixie didn't dare bring him out the front door. She knew her life would be forfeit. Instead she walked him down the dim corridor toward the back garden. She took a deep breath and creaked open the door, to appease Taylor more than anything else.

Pixie didn't wish to return to Cornwall at all. She didn't wish to be Taylor's magical toy. She wanted to leave the country as soon as possible and curl into a ball until the madness abated. Instead, she allowed Taylor to wrap his arms around her. She managed not to shudder and was almost pleased with herself until she remembered she was transporting a criminal. Pixie allowed Taylor to grip her arm with more force than necessary and took a deep breath.

A few moments later they were sucked into the vortex of Apparition, landing with a resounding thud on the edge of the small garden near the quaint cottage. Pixie scurried around the side of the cottage upon spying a couple of angry wizards bolting from the interior. She managed to drag Taylor with her, but he wrenched himself from her grip the moment he was able.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Taylor hissed, knocking Pixie to the ground. He glowered over her, his fist cocked prepared to strike and Pixie closed her eyes, bracing herself.

"Harry Potter, I saw him and I didn't think you'd want to be seen." Pixie whispered, her voice trembling with fear.

The blow never came and she opened her slanted eyes to gaze upon her older brother. Taylor had lowered his fist, his chest heaving with exertion before he nodded ever so slowly. He offered his sister a hand, shaking it impatiently when it seemed she was going to refuse it. Pixie cautiously placed her delicate fingers against his, allowing him to yank her to her feet.

"That was smart thinkin' but I don't wish to hide. Did they look upset, d'ya think?" The eager gleam in his eyes and the size of his pupils were unnerving. Pixie hesitantly nodded, staring into the distance. Anything was better than witnessing the all encompassing happiness which filled her brother's face.

"Do you still need me? I mean…I only mean….I'll wait here for you, of course I will…"

"Are you mental? How the fuck am I supposed to get back without you? I'm not bloody planning on remaining here after all. You'll stay right here, while I make sure the little bitch is dead. I expect I'll run into a bit of trouble, so keep an ear out alright?" Taylor was giddy with excitement and practically skipped toward the back door of the cottage.

* * *

(Taylor)

* * *

"Is the little bitch dead then?" I was practically salivating at the very thought of eclectic collection of witches and wizards mourning a death I had caused.

The red haired witch shrieked and stumbled away from me, not that she was particularly near me anyway. She was closer to that blond haired wretch who ruined my life. I didn't care about her, I wasn't there for her. I was more interested in the anguish on that Malfoy bastard's face. I studied him the way he studied me. I suppose we were sizing each other up in the way that only blokes can manage. He wiped his face, but that was pointless. It was completely obvious he had been crying. Good.

The red haired girl had a bit of fight in her. I wasn't concerned with her, not really. If it came to it, I knew I could overpower her. I've had a bit of practice when it comes to subduing women and she wouldn't be any different. They were all the same. They just needed to be taught their place. I watched her shove a bit of wood in Malfoy's hand. Those fucking wands were going to be the end of me. If I never saw another, it would be too soon. I wasn't special enough to get a fucking wand, now was I? No, just your regular average Muggle. They say Muggle like it's a curse. They don't even realise it. Hermione didn't though and in the beginning I had liked that about her. She didn't care that I was…that I am a Squib. For awhile I thought we'd had a chance. Of course that was until she made it abundantly clear she had no intention of ever attending a Ministry Ball or posing for a single camera. What the fuck kind of witch is that? I tried to cajole her into it, but she wouldn't have it. She simply wished for a quiet life, away from the publicity. Fucking bitch. If I were a wizard I'd flaunt it about as much as possible, but not my wife.

"So you're the bloke who's been fucking my wife?" He flinched and I knew he was waiting for me to make a move, but I'm not bloody stupid. I know better than to attack a fucking wizard. If his magic weren't an issue, that would be quite another story.

I wasn't expecting him to hurtle his wand across the fucking room and leap at me as if he were an animal. I wasn't aware Malfoys were well versed in physically violence, but I definitely underestimated the bastard. I'd been in a few scuffled throughout my life, but never with a formidable opponent. It was easy to force my will unto women, this was a completely different story.

Apparently Draco Malfoy was built like a brick shithouse and he struck as such. His fist connected with my jaw and I swear he damaged it. I could feel the crunch of the bone and the immediate throbbing pain blinding my eyes. I lashed out, but managed to do nothing more than give him a shove before he was back on me. We fell to the ground in a pile of fast moving limbs, each trying to strike out at each other. I couldn't manage a smile when I heard my fist land a blow on his ribs, but inwardly I was pleased.

There were witches shouting at us, but we weren't concerned with such things. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to see him crumple to the ground in abject ruin, but that wasn't the way it was to be. We struggled to our feet, me more than he. He landed a particularly hard punch to my stomach and I doubled over, gasping for breath. He didn't give him a chance to regain my bearings, of course he didn't, I wouldn't have either. His knee slammed against my nose and the blood spurting blurred my vision. I didn't bother to wipe it away. Instead I reached up and grabbed his hair, yanking his face downward with all my might, but the bastard continued to struggle and barreled his head directly into my midsection.

I spat in his face. It felt good for reasons I can't entirely understand. I managed to kick out at him and swept his feet out from under him while he was fixed on regaining his footing. He was faster than I anticipated but I didn't stop, I couldn't stop. The rage was consuming me and I couldn't rein it in, nor did I want too. I don't even know how it happened, but suddenly I was on top of him. My fists were flailing, pummeling the perfect chiseled pale face of Draco fucking Malfoy.

I laughed when his cheek crunched against my knuckles, spitting blood into his pale face. It was his eyes though, they intimidated me. They were not filled with resignation as I had so often seen before. There was a determination there, glinting just beneath the surface before he struck. Malfoy managed to prop his knees between us and he flung me.

I slid across the floor in a puddle of my own blood and probably sweat. I couldn't shout for Pixie, he really had damaged my jaw. My knee made a God awful noise when he stomped upon it and I could do nothing more than groan. He wrenched my arm behind me and rolled me over. I didn't wish to taste my own blood but apparently I didn't have a choice in the matter. He slammed my face into the floor so many times I was barely conscious. Bits and fragments of teeth punctured my lips, but it wasn't as if I could close my mouth anyway. I was fairly certain it wasn't supposed to be crooked.

"Draco." Fuck that bitch. She's not dead. She's not only alive; she's wandering about calling for her lover. Well, if that just doesn't ruin a bloke's day? It's not bad enough I've been beaten to a pulp. I can't even savor the thought of her being dead because she was right fucking there. I mean, I couldn't see her or anything as my eyes were completely swelled shut but I could damn well hear her.

"He's…he's not worth it." Not worth it? Of course I'm worth it. I'm wonderful and she's nothing but a cheating whore. How dare she? "Please, for me. I'm asking you to stop." Her voice was low but she was closer now and I couldn't help but reach for her. I felt the hem of whatever she was wearing, a nightdress if I had to guess.

My entire body was throbbing but at least Malfoy had stopped pummeling me into oblivion. I could feel soft breaths on my cheek and I knew they were hers. I managed to raise one of my leaden arms and twisted my fist in those curls I detested. She gasped and Malfoy was socking my face again.

"I wisssh you were dead." I have no way of knowing if I managed to speak the words properly. I can't imagine I did considering the extent of my damage but I felt better for simply attempting to convey it.

There was a blur, a devastating crunch and then darkness took over and it was bliss.

* * *

(Fear &amp; Loathing)

* * *

Pixie huddled beside the cottage, her hands firmly clamped over her ears. She had heard the shouts from the interior of the cottage and she could imagine the havoc Taylor was wreaking, yet she hadn't the nerve to move. Her hands shook, but finally she managed to crawl beneath the smudged windows toward the back door.

Pixie peered through the grimy glass and smothered a sob. Taylor was in the process of being walloped by none other than her former husband. She'd never seen him lift a hand against anyone and yet he was kicking, punching and she believed even biting her brother in a frenzy of violence. She never knew Draco to be passionate about anything, but with every blow, with every shout, with every howl of burning pain, she was able to see the love shining through. Draco Malfoy was irrevocably in love with Hermione Granger and her brother had wished to take it from him. Taylor had wished to abolish the only bright thing in that poor man's life and even Pixie couldn't abide such things.

"We'll call the Aurors or even the Muggle officers. We'll let them deal with him. I couldn't survive it if you were taken from me. He's not worth Azkaban." Pixie's cries were muffled against her sleeve.

She couldn't believe the woman Taylor had battered, almost beaten to death was extending a sort of kindness toward him. He didn't deserve it. He'd never deserve it, but Hermione was rising above. Pixie managed to open the door from her knees. She wasn't sure why she was going inside. It would have been much easier to Apparate away and allow Taylor to deal with the consequences of his actions and yet she felt she couldn't. Pixie Parkinson needed them to know she wasn't like her brother. She didn't harbor the animosity he did nor did she condone his actions.

She might never have loved Draco Malfoy the way she was told she should, but that didn't mean she never cared about him. She had, in the superficial way her mother loved her father. Quite frankly, Pixie didn't know any other way to love and that would have been terribly sad if it weren't for her irascible disposition.

She cleared her throat a few times, but none of them paid any mind. Narcissa Malfoy was plucking Hermione's sleeve and seemed to be attempting to convince the weary witch to return to bed. Draco Malfoy was poised over Taylor, his fist still firmly clenched, prepared to strike. Ginny Weasley kept a wary eye on the front door, hoping against hope Harry and Blaise were not about to walk into the cottage.

Carina toddled into the room, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and frowned at the unfamiliar witch. She easily rounded her distracted grandmother to tug on her mother's nightie.

"Mum-mum, who dat?" Carina pointed a chubby finger at Pixie with the deepest frown she'd ever seen upon a child's face.

Five pairs of eyes turned to stare at Pixie and she immediately held her hands out in silent supplication. It didn't help her cause any, considering her wand was still gripped between her fingers. Pixie gasped in horror upon spying the wood and let it fall from her fingers to clatter upon the hardwood.

"I'm…I'm sorry. I-I brought him here. I didn't think he'd…I mean…I knew he has a terrible temper but…" Pixie sniffled, wringing her hands, unsure how to continue.

"Pixie." Draco growled, slowly climbing off Taylor Johns unconscious form. He stared at the blood on his knuckles in wonder, shaking his head a few times as if to clear the images before returning his attention to his former wife. "What are you doing here?"

"He attacked Father, Taylor did I mean. Father was preparing to set the Aurors on him and Taylor lost his temper. I brought him here so he wouldn't…so he wouldn't…"

"Beat you." Hermione whispered softly, leaning heavily on Ginny and Narcissa. Her face scrunched in pain, but she resolved to remain until the unwelcome witch was gone.

Pixie nodded with shame, brushing the tears from her cheeks. Her feet were firmly planted to the floor, she couldn't have moved if she wanted too. Her knees were locked in place and her breathing was sporadic at best.

"I'm sorry, so terribly sorry. I should have known better but I…I was…I was afraid and…" Pixie's shoulders lightly shook under the pressure of such a confession. "I shouldn't have brought him. I should have…"

"No, you did the right thing. He would have injured you. It seems he has no qualms when it comes to expressing his anger against women. Harry Potter is here. He'll take care of it and we'll be sure to send someone to the Parkinson Estate to check on the welfare of your father. I'm sure the Aurors will wish to speak with you as well." Narcissa Malfoy easily stepped into the role with which she was well acquainted.

Pixie almost turned tail and ran when Harry Potter and Blaise Zabini burst through the front door, dragging a most unwilling Healer with them.

"Sorry, he didn't wish to come and we thought it would be best to have one on hand at all times. It'll take us a bit to get things situated with Bill but…" Harry dropped off, drawing his wand upon spying the quivering witch.

"What the fuck is she doing here? Bloody hell is that Johns?" Blaise gestured wildly between Pixie and Taylor; sure his eyes were playing one hell of a bloody trick on him.

"Ginny will explain while I put Hermione back to bed. She shouldn't be standing. Draco please go and wash the blood from your person, I'm sure Hermione would appreciate it if you didn't reek of blood while you sit with her. Pixie, do watch over your brother and it would probably be best if you left your wand exactly where it is. Potter, be a good boy and contact the Ministry. Carina dear, come with us." Narcissa half carried Hermione from the room pausing until she heard the scurry of feet from behind her.

"Pixie? What of your mum?" Draco called over his shoulder while he scrubbed his hands in the kitchen basin. The soap stung his wounds and he winced against the sudden influx of pain.

As if to answer his question, the distinct pop of Apparition was heard in the garden. Draco dried his hands, happening to glance out the sink basin window. He retreated with a snarl and turned to glower at Pixie.

"What is it then?" Pixie had finally managed to walk a few steps forward to stand beside Taylor. She couldn't bear to look upon the destruction which was his face.

"It's…your mother…"

Pariesna Parkinson swept into her son's cottage as if it were an everyday occurrence. She barely spared Draco Malfoy a glance, settling immediately upon the groaning, mangled, bloody form of her only son. She smoothed the dirty blonde hair at her temple and shoved her daughter aside.

"Oh my poor boy, what _have_ they done to you?" Pariesna knelt beside him, ever mindful of the smattering of blood surrounding his body.

"Nothing less than he deserved." Draco spat, his hand twitching with the desire to hex the abominable woman.

He had never been particularly fond of Pansy's mother. She had always been a cold sort of woman, much colder than his own mother. She had always seemed to detest the existence of Pansy and it irked him even as a child. Draco remembered the shock of discovering Pansy even had a sister and realised she must have suffered the same treatment. It seemed Pariesna Parkinson lavished all her attention and love upon a son without the slightest hint of magical ability.

"If your father were alive he would decimate these miscreants without a laboured breath. It's alright now Taylor, mummy's here. I'll protect you. I'll take care of you." Pariesna crooned, lovingly stroking the blood soaked hair across his brow.

"Even you will not be able to protect him Pariesna. He'll answer for his crimes. You're lucky I didn't kill the bastard." Draco's wand wavered in his hand from the sheer effort of maintaining his composure.

"You stupid boy." Pixie gasped, realising her mother's intentions. She saw her mother's wand peeking out from the insides of her robes, long fingers holding it deftly.

Pixie scoured the floor for her wand and stumbled toward it. She was quite intent upon stopping Pariesna's actions, but she wasn't quite quick enough. Pariesna smiled, a deliciously wicked smile and winked at Draco Malfoy while she hugged her son to her breast. Draco growled, but even he was too late as Pariesna and Taylor disappeared with the sound he'd come to hate.

"Fucking hell, Pixie, what am I to tell the Aurors now? Your bloody mother swooped in after declaring Ramses dead and Disapparated with Taylor?!" Draco bellowed, reduced to shattering pieces of flatware against the wall.

"Ramses was alive when we departed. Taylor's father died long before he was ever born. My mother, well she lied to my father to force his hand into marriage. She's always carried a particularly vicious hatred toward your mum. She knew about Lyra. I used to hear her whispering to Taylor. If you wish to blame someone for why Taylor is the way he is…blame our mother." Pixie covered her face and fell to her knees in a cacophony of sobs.

"Wait. If Ramses isn't Taylor's father…who is then?" Pixie sobbed harder, rocking to and fro, until finally she spilled the contents of her stomach across the shards of broken glass.

"Tom," she finally whispered, "Tom Riddle."


	11. Paradise Lost

**AN: Warning - graphic content ahead. Proceed with caution.**

**As this was a particularly difficult chapter to write, I can't promise the editing is spot-on.  
If you take personal issue with this chapter, feel free to PM me and we'll have a lovely discussion about it.  
Flames will not be tolerated as I find them completely unnecessary.  
I thank you, as always for taking this particular journey with me.**

* * *

Chapter 11 – Paradise Lost

* * *

(Hermione)

* * *

I still couldn't believe Taylor had truly hated me that much. I mean to wish I was dead? How could he even pretend to have loved me if that was his true feelings on the matter? I hadn't seen the hatred in his eyes as they were completely swelled shut, but I could feel it in his practiced fist.

It was easy to allow Narcissa to lead me back to bed. She was quite correct, I shouldn't have been up but the draw of Draco's strangled shouts and the sounds of glass breaking and furniture being tossed about couldn't have kept me in bed long. I had never seen Draco Malfoy's anger before and I vowed to never see it again. It terrified me if I was being honest with myself. I hadn't known he was truly capable of such violence.

I couldn't help but wonder if I was leaving one bad situation just to run headlong into another. I'd like to think Draco wouldn't ever do anything to me in anger, but after watching him practically bludgeon Taylor to death, I was having second thoughts. The look in his eyes, well I understood it and he looked absolutely horrified that I saw him on top of Taylor like that.

Everything hurt and I didn't wish to think about anything other than that. It was easy to allow Narcissa to take the reins as it was obviously something she was quite used to doing. It didn't bother me any, though sometimes when she looked at me, I felt as if she were hiding something. She would never hold my gaze long, instead directing me toward my daughter. It was easy to allow myself to be distracted by Carina's nonsensical chatter. She was happy so it was easy to allow myself to feel happy as well.

I wasn't dead, so there was that. It meant more to me than I thought it would. For a long while I had thought, truly believed I would welcome death. However, when faced with the very real possibility, it was terrifying. The very idea I'd never see Carina or even Draco ever again was absolutely inconceivable.

I was having trouble focusing at that point. Carina was reclining upon one of the many pillows, twisting blonde curls around her fingers while my eyes drooped. I didn't want to sleep. I wanted to see Draco, I wanted to feel his arms around me and know it would be alright. Everything had to be alright. I'd been through enough, haven't I?

"You really should get some rest." Narcissa hovered in the aristocratic yet matronly way only she could. Her hands had a tendency to flutter near my face and I knew she wished to brush the hair from my forehead, but she was averse to touching. I couldn't blame her, not really. She tried. She valiantly tried to shed the pureblood ideals she had become accustomed. She had aided numerous witches in my position and I suppose it was easier when the women in question weren't in love with her son.

"Something's wrong isn't there?" I had to ask her. I could see the worry in her eyes yet I couldn't be certain if it was for me or for her son. My hand instinctively dropped to my stomach and her eyes followed, closing briefly. I saw it then, the raw pain in her blue eyes and it scared me.

Narcissa's painted red lips opened and closed a few times and I was absurdly reminded of a fish underwater. She sat beside me and laid her hand on mine. This was bad. This was very bad. Sure, Narcissa had been ridiculously kind before, but this was something else, something different. Of course that was the moment my son chose to make his presence known. I was used to the gentle thumping, each roll causing me to sigh in relief, until now. Narcissa withdrew her hand quickly, as if it burned and covered her mouth. She stood up just as quickly and I could see the tears pooling in the corners of her eyes in the seconds before she hurried from the bedroom without a word.

Carina had crawled over the ridiculous pile of blankets and nestled into my side. I loved to watch her sleep; I didn't think I'd ever get tired of it. I could smell the steam of the shower. Isn't that odd? I knew it was Draco, hopefully scrubbing the remnants of Muggle fighting from his knuckles. I adored the delicious aroma which was just so irrevocably him. I couldn't put it into words; I was so damn tired it was difficult to keep my eyes open any longer.

When I woke it was dark but I knew it was morning. I don't know how I knew, but I did. Carina was no longer beside me but that wasn't my greatest concern. Something had woken me, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I groaned, struggling to sit up and that's when I felt it. I don't know how to even begin to describe the sensation.

One moment my son was resting just beneath my breasts and the next…it was as if he fell. My heart dropped, my stomach clenched and I couldn't breathe. Something was wrong. Something was so terribly wrong. I rolled onto my side with closed eyes, silently willing him to move. There was a presence, but it was different. I could feel him simply lying wherever he was tossed when I moved and I knew…I knew, but I didn't want to admit it. I couldn't, not yet.

I tossed the blankets from me and struggled to sit up. Everything ached, but this was bigger than the battering my body had taken. I swung my feet to the floor and that's when I felt it. Everything was instantly in slow motion. I had heard of moments where such things had happened but I always brushed it off as a figment of their imagination. I knew differently now and I cursed my own callousness.

I pushed myself to my feet and I could feel my life's blood, my son's life blood pouring from my body. I doubled over as another wave of pain coursed through me. I hurried to the loo as quickly as my feet would take me.

"No no no…please no no no." I was chanting to myself and I knew it was a fruitless endeavor but I couldn't give up. I wasn't ready to give up on him.

There was so much blood, too much. It was so red and smeared on my thighs, practically dripping to my feet. I opened my mouth, but no words would come out. I was frozen with fear. My breaths were hard and fast and I couldn't squelch the groan that worked its way from between my parched lips.

I discarded my nightgown and tried to organise my racing thoughts. I had to get back to bed. I couldn't just sit here on the toilet. I knew that losing consciousness was a certainty with the wave of dizziness that made my head swim. I snatched one of the large white towels on the counter and stuffed it into my knickers. I knew it was ridiculous, but I didn't have other options at that point.

I needed help. I needed…Ginny. I didn't know if she was still here but I couldn't face Draco or even Merlin forbid his mother, not now. It was my fault. It was my entire fault. I should have left sooner. I shouldn't have fought with him. I shouldn't have angered him. I shouldn't have told him my son wasn't his.

I couldn't help but to wipe the floor. I couldn't risk the chance of Carina stepping into the puddles and smears. I didn't wish anyone to witness my shame. It was silly, I knew it was silly. In the grand scheme of things what did it matter if I left the lavatory completely disastrous?

I managed to get myself back into my bedroom. I even managed to rummage through the drawers of my bureau to find a new set of pyjamas. It was ridiculous to struggle into the plaid pants but I wasn't about to ruin another nightgown. At least the pants were old, worn and comfortable. I needed comfort. While I yanked the plain white tee shirt over my head, I thought perhaps I would be given a reprieve. I thought perhaps I had been wrong and it was just a figment of my imagination. If I opened my eyes, maybe I would be safely in my bed and this would all turn out to be a horrible dream. Instead, I was racked with another sharp, piercing pain and I fell to the floor. I tried to get up, but I was so weak. I managed to pull myself toward the door. I could hear whispered voices on the other side and I wished to shout but I could barely raise my hand to scratch upon the wood.

"Should we check on her?" Harry, oh Harry yes open the door.

"Let her rest. Did you make the arrangements with the Wolf Weasel and the French Bint?" Draco, of course it would be Draco. No, I didn't want him. I couldn't bear to witness his pain compiled on my own.

"They have names Malfoy. Yes, to answer your question. Bill and Fleur are prepared to receive you. Look, I'm just going to peak my head in, why don't you have a breakfast tray prepared for her. She'll definitely be hungry." I could imagine Draco rolling his eyes before swiftly moving down the corridor toward the kitchen.

My bedroom door creaked open slowly and I knew Harry's eyes were on the bed. I wasn't in the bed, mind you but he didn't know that. The heavy door hit my shoulder but I couldn't move, let alone do anything more than release a breathy moan.

"Oh shit." Harry's green eyes widened and I could see the horror as he stared not at my face, but at the puddle of blood pooling beneath me.

"Ginny." It was excruciating to whisper, but I needed her. I needed her more than I have ever needed anyone.

Sure Ginny was always a bit rough around the edges and she had a wicked temper, but that wasn't important. She loved me. She understood me on a level that no one else could even begin to understand. We didn't need words to communicate. In the beginning of our friendship we were understandably wary of each other, each protective of our places in the hierarchy, but in the end we discovered a great friendship in each other. She would always stand beside me, no matter my choices and I couldn't help but love her for it.

I could hear the scuffling of feet, but somewhere along the way my eyes had closed and they were so bloody heavy I couldn't force them open if I tried. I felt myself being lifted from the floor and the world spun around me. I was suddenly gagging. My face was shoved to the side and I vomited all over someone.

"Harry, put the extra sheets on the bed. No, don't worry about the bloody vomit now. Get Narcissa and keep Draco out of here at all costs. I don't care if you have to bind him to a chair. Don't hurt him though. She'll need him when all is said and done." Ohh Ginny, I knew I could count on her.

My eyelids fluttered open and it seemed as though she was so very far away. I was in the midst of a long dark tunnel and I couldn't see the end of it. The light was slowly fading, but it was her voice that drew me back.

"No, don't you dare. You stay with me." She was slapping my face and I winced. Of course I winced, Ginny slaps particularly hard, trust me on that.

"It's happening then?" I couldn't move my head to face Narcissa but I knew it was her just the same. I felt instantly betrayed. She knew? They knew? They knew this was a viable possibility and they didn't tell me? They didn't think I'd wish to know?

I was hyperventilating then and I supposed that was to be expected as well. I allowed my eyes to close because the physical and emotional pain was almost overbearing. My abdomen was hard as it contracted, attempting to expel my deceased child. I felt as though I were dying. From the scurrying about, hushed voices and nervous responses, I assumed I was dying. When I managed to pry my eyelids open, I saw nothing but the black. It was eerily black and I wasn't afraid. It was so peaceful and beautiful, but Ginny kept slapping me back to reality, interfering bitch. I didn't mean it, not really but I won't lie and say the thought wasn't there.

"We need the Healer. This is obviously beyond my realm of expertise." Narcissa was busy wrenching my pants off and my stomach rolled from the jerking motion. I could feel the bile gathering in the back of my throat. I managed to slap the empty place beside me which garnered me Ginny's attention.

"I need a basin, quickly! Get the Healer!" Ginny was quite commanding and I half expected Narcissa to argue with her. How silly of me. No one with a bit of sense would argue with angry Weasley.

I despised the Healer upon first touch. He wrenched open my bent knees and flipped up the sheet, exposing me to the morning air which I didn't appreciate in the least. His hands were cold and his prods were careless. If I could have moved, I knew my back would have arched off the bed. The only thing I could do was moan and whimper.

"Be gentle. You're hurting her." Ginny hissed and instantly held my hand for which I was thankful. I could barely squeeze her fingers, but she was there and that's exactly what I needed.

"Perhaps I should clear the room. She's lost an awful amount of blood. She'll definitely require a Blood Replenishing Potion. There are definitive fetal parts as well and…" I swallowed hard, mentally repeating the offensive words until the tears freely fell.

"You say those words again and I'll Avada you myself." Draco! Oh he shouldn't be here. I didn't want him to see me like that.

I was freely sobbing then, no longer able to maintain the quiet façade. It was his voice that did me in. He was angry, but it wasn't directed at me. He was still protecting me. I didn't deserve it; at least I didn't believe I deserved it. I'm sure he would stubbornly cling to the opposite opinion.

I must have drifted off because when I opened my eyes once more, Ginny was wiping down my thighs, calves with a wet cloth and Draco was stroking my forehead. He was murmuring something, but I couldn't make it out. It must have been some sort of healing spell as the powerful ache in my womb abated.

"I'm so sorry love. I know that doesn't make it better. I could tell you that it will be alright and we'll have a lovely home and fill it with as many children as you like, but it won't take this agony away. I wish I could do that for you. I wish it had never come to this. I should have stolen you away like a thief in the night. I shouldn't have walked away in the first place. Have I told you I love you? I can't remember right now. I'm so tired." Draco continued to mumble into the side of my neck and I doubt he even noticed his head had dropped.

I suppose I was wrong. It was difficult admitting it, but perhaps Draco was exactly what I needed. Ginny covered me with a light sheet and my eyes followed her around the room. They didn't notice that I was awake, either of them. They were both lost in their own dismay and I wasn't about to interrupt them.

My eyes were stinging, with the slightest hint of a burning sensation. I was sure that horrid Healer was to blame. I swallowed and I could taste the horrid lingering aftertaste of a Blood Replenishing Potion which explained quite a lot. I had only intended to beg Gin for a glass of water but every time I opened my mouth, I was overcome with a horrific crying fit.

I couldn't help it but this wave of guilt washed over me. I didn't know if it was from my hand in the loss of my son or even from jarring Draco from a fitful slumber, but I couldn't make it stop. It didn't matter how much I wished it to stop, it consumed me until I felt as though I was nothing more than the tears seeping from my eyes.

"Don't try to open your eyes. The Healer decided Muggle medicine would be better for you. You were a bit out of it for awhile. He said your eyes would clear up in a few hours. You need to drink. Just let me prop you up." Ginny was whispering to me and I wondered if Draco was still nearby but I didn't wish the sting to return so I did as I was told.

* * *

"Let me do it." Draco Malfoy slipped his arm beneath Hermione's head, easing her up. It was difficult to hold her, awkward angles, her head lolling to the side until finally he gave up. With Ginny's aid he was able to sit behind her, allowing her exhausted form to lean heavily upon him.

She drank the water greedily, no matter how many times he urged her to slow. He could feel her trembling while she sniffed, her movements slow and pained. Draco easily wiped the tears from her eyes, knowing she was in dire need of comfort but not quite sure how to complete the task.

"Are you hungry?" The room was so quiet, even with Ginny hovering nearby his whisper rang out as if it were shouted.

Hermione shook her head slowly, grasping the hand at her side with such strength he was amazed she had it in her. He couldn't help but kiss her temple, which sent her into another round of silent tears and he sighed. Draco didn't have the sort of experience required to deal with such things. He was completely out of his element and realised she was as well. It was the pain of the experience which bonded them together yet again.

"Harry would like to speak to you if you're up to it." Ginny patted Hermione's covered foot, still unable to make eye contact.

She wasn't used to seeing the astonishingly brilliant witch overcome with an emotion which wasn't centered around anger. She hadn't known it was possible and while she felt a peculiar pang, Ginny Potter knew it couldn't compare with the heart rending fracture of Hermione's heart.

"Alright." Draco couldn't help but wrap his arms firmly around her and stroke her sides. Her breaths were ragged and he knew she was barely hanging on by a thread.

Ginny was out the door in a rush, thankful for something to do. She stopped short at the sight of Carina clinging desperately to Narcissa and toying with her grandmother's long blonde hair.

"I can barely believe it myself. I never allowed Draco to touch a single strand of my hair when he was a child. Carina on the other hand has been simply inconsolable. I suspect it was the bustle of strangers and the definitive darkness in the air from Taylor's untimely visit. How is she?" Narcissa adjusted the small toddler on her hip with practiced ease, while patting the child's back slowly.

"Its only been a few hours. Considering she's been through hell in the past few days, she's doing surprisingly well. Harry, she said it's alright if you wish to speak with her now. I suggest keeping it short and sweet, well as sweet as you can manage." Ginny tried to smile, but it fell short as she knew it would.

"I sent Blaise back to London. I figured it was really sort of pointless for him to stay. He's only an owl away if Malfoy decides he needs him or something. Gin, I sort of said it would be alright if Pansy and Blaise looked in on the boys. I hope you don't mind, but you know your mum spoils them and…"

"It's fine Harry. I miss them terribly. I was planning on returning but…" Ginny shrugged, letting the rest of her sentence dangle unspoken. There wasn't a need, not really.

"I suppose I should send Lucius an owl." Narcissa sighed, obviously displeased with the idea. While Lucius might have earned himself a reprieve from the dungeon, he had not yet earned forgiveness from his wife, which amused Harry Potter to no end.

Harry made his way down the narrow corridor and held his breath upon creaking open the bedroom door. He still had a bit of trouble when it came to seeing Hermione with Draco Malfoy, but he tried his best considering the circumstances. He wasn't sure what the best course of action was, so he procrastinated which was something he was quite familiar. Harry avoided looking directly at the mourning couple, but it was difficult to tear his eyes from them once he sat upon the white cushioned chair at the foot of the bed.

Draco Malfoy had Hermione situated in his lap and was rocking her slowly, toying with her short hair, murmuring soft soothing words into the side of her throat. Hermione, for her part, clung to his shirt desperately, whispering the same few words over and over again in such a way Harry's heart broke just a little more.

"I'm sorry. It's all my fault. I'm sorry." Harry was not surprised in the least when it came to Hermione's admission of guilt. What he hadn't expected however was Draco's quiet reassurance.

"Granger, it's not. You know it's not. I know it's almost impossible to see it now, but one day when it's not as fresh, you'll believe me. It doesn't matter what you think you've done, it was Johns. It's his fault." Harry concentrated on the rhythmic motion of Draco's hand, stroking Hermione's face and her arms, rather than the timbre of his voice.

"You're going to hate me. You don't know what I've done. It truly is my fault…if I hadn't…" Hermione kept her eyes shut tight, petrified of the truth she craved to spill forth upon unwilling ears.

"Love, please stop. I don't care what you think you've done. There's no excuse for his actions. There never is. I'm not leaving you, not again."

"Swear it? No matter what I did, no matter what I said…you'd stay?" Hermione hiccupped against the base of his throat, releasing the smallest groan.

"I've let you slip away too many times. I don't even care if he wasn't mine. He was part of you; I'd have loved him just the same. One day, in the near future, because I'm an impatient man, I'm going to marry you. I'm going to whisk you away to a lovely house in the countryside, maybe just outside Hogsmeade. It would be nice to live closer to a magical community. Wiltshire is so far from everything after all. I'm going to build you the biggest library you've ever seen and we're going to fill that house with so many children we're going to be mistaken for Weasleys." Harry swore he saw the slightest hint of a smile twitching the corner of Hermione's parted lips and inwardly sighed. She was a fighter, she'd always be a fighter and it would take more than this deplorable event to redefine Hermione Granger.

"He found your letter and shouted at me. I shouldn't have shouted back, but I couldn't help it. I was so bloody angry. He kept laughing at me, like I didn't even matter and I suppose I didn't, not to him. I never did. I was so stupid for marrying him. I fought back. I'd never done that before and…" Hermione stumbled over her words, yet Draco's fingers covered her lips.

"Granger, I don't care what you did. I've already told you. I'm not leaving. I don't care if you spit in his eye or insulted his manhood. I find it difficult to believe the bastard has a manhood, but no matter. I swear it." Hermione did smile then, Harry was certain of it and as her eyes fluttered open, he knew this was his moment to interrupt their disgustingly sweet display of affection.

"I'm sorry to interrupt but…"

"No you're not Potter, don't lie." Draco lazily smirked over the top of Hermione's head, unable to stop himself from irritating the green eyed wizard.

"Alright fine, I'm not sorry, better Malfoy? It doesn't matter. The Ministry wishes you lot to be relocated as soon as you're able. It's been arranged that you'll be moved to Shell Cottage. It's close and safe. Ginny will accompany you but she'd really like to get home to the boys. Of course if you need her, she'll only be a Floo away." Harry cleared his throat and normally Draco would make some sort of snarky remark but now wasn't the time.

"Please tell me my mother isn't invited."

"Can we go now? I really am feeling much better and I don't wish to spend another moment here if it can be helped." Hermione interjected before Harry had a chance to respond.

"We can leave as soon as you're ready. Narcissa and Ginny have gathered all of Carina's belongings. I'm not sure if they've gathered anything for you since…"

"I don't want anything. Malfoy is in possession of the photographs I hold dear. That's all I need." She sounded so cold and removed from the situation, Harry knew she was putting up her emotional walls but before he could even suggest such a thing, Draco was staring down at her with narrowed eyes.

"Don't do that. Don't close yourself off. You've got to face it head on. You'll never heal if you do that and you bloody well know it. We've been down that road before haven't we? I don't wish to see you return there, love. I couldn't bear it." Hermione immediately softened, dampness licking her eyelashes as she nodded slowly.

Quite frankly Harry Potter was absolutely amazed to observe Hermione Granger easily surrendering to Draco Malfoy. If he hadn't been sitting he was fairly certain his knees would have buckled at the sight of it all. Hermione didn't buckle. She valiantly fought her way through every argument until eventually the recipient wasn't even sure what the point of the argument was to begin with. It's what she did. It's what she always did, but then again, Harry hadn't exactly adapted to a Hermione Granger so obviously in love. It scared him just a bit and he wasn't afraid to admit it.

"He was yours." Hermione continuously tried to tuck her curls behind her ear, but they were as stubborn as she and refused to remain in place. She stared into her lap, avoiding Harry's questioning gaze.

"I know. I knew from the moment I heard his name. He was yours. He was mine. He was ours. I'll make sure Taylor Johns pays for what he's done, but I won't lose you in the process." Hermione nodded ever so slowly, her hand lightly fingering his cheek before she kissed him.

He wasn't expecting it, but he wasn't about to pull away from her either. He was desperate for the smallest iota of affection from her. She was his lifeline, whether she realised it or not. Draco hadn't realised how empty his life was without her in it and he vowed to never rediscover such an existence.

"Malfoy, Harry…I want you to promise me something." Hermione glanced between the two men, ignoring Harry's stiff posture. He knew exactly what she was going to ask. Nervously he held his breath, hoping he was wrong.

"Anything, love." Harry winced, knowing Draco Malfoy hadn't the slightest idea what she would demand.

"I want you to kill him. Would you do that for me? Would you make him suffer the way I've suffered?"

"Hermione, I don't think that's the best course of action. I mean you can't really expect me to…I work for the Ministry and…" Hermione immediately tuned out Harry's response as it was exactly as she suspected it would be.

Instead she turned to Draco with hope in her eyes. She wasn't a violent witch, not by any means, but this was different. She knew she might feel contrarily at some point in the future and accepted it easily. She hoped Draco would understand her plight, understand the life altering sufferance and agree, even if she did happen to change her mind later. At this moment, she fervently hoped he'd know how desperately she needed it.

Hermione studied the hardened stormy eyes with her forehead pressed to his, simply waiting. Draco contemplated the idea and it pleased him so thoroughly he shivered with delight. Of course he knew she didn't mean it. No matter how much she truly believed she did, it was the pain talking, but who was he to deny her, her greatest desire? He managed a small smile then, pinning her face between his large hands, he breathed her in. Merlin how he had missed her. Draco knew it was almost time to set aside his personal emotional upheaval, but just for a moment, the smallest moment he allowed it to wash over him and it was excruciating.

"Granger, my love, it would be my pleasure."


	12. Tom Riddle's Spawn

**Disclaimer: Warning. Proceed with caution. This chapter is disturbing on levels which may trigger issues in others. Dark themes including non-consent.**

**Author's Note: Considering it has been an extremely long time since I have updated this particular story, the creative flow sort of took over and deemed this chapter worthy of almost 10k words. I'm sure I could have broken the chapter into smaller chapters but I didn't. This story is finally in a place where the creative juices are flowing more readily and I hope future chapters will not take eons to write.**

**Also, I took poetic license with Lucius &amp; Narcissa's age for the sake of the story, though their numerical age is not mentioned, it is slightly implied. Don't string me up. ;-)**

**As always, thank you for reading *kisses***

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Chapter 12 – Tom Riddle's Spawn

* * *

Lucius Malfoy studied the names magically embroidered into his family tree and resisted the urge to snarl. He hadn't truly looked upon it since the day Lyra had passed, but it was time. He fingered his son's name, still unable to quite come to terms with his muddied bloodline. If it weren't for the witch's blood, Lucius knew he wouldn't be objecting in the least.

She was more than he could have ever wished for his son. If only she were pureblood, she'd be the perfect Malfoy bride. Lucius could easily overlook her marriage to a Squib. After all, it wasn't as if the wizarding community would have cared in the least. It seemed they were more than willing to mix their bloodlines, yet still he struggled. He couldn't refute her intelligence, her wit or even her beauty.

His gaze wandered toward his family tree once more and the tumbler of firewhiskey slipped from his grasp as his mouth dropped open and a strangled cry escaped his lips. Lucius Malfoy observed the small green leaf beneath his son's name waver gently before falling from the branch to disappear into nothingness. His grey eyes held steadily on the girl's name, his granddaughter, yet even as he stared it remained still and strong. His breath was shaky and uneven no matter how hard he attempted to steady himself the truth was indisputable. Lucius refused to admit the dampness gathering in the corner of his eyes had anything to do with the irrevocable loss of another half-blood grandchild. It was inconceivable to mourn that which should never have been brought into existence.

He cringed, vacillating between despising himself for thinking such a thing and despising whomsoever had destroyed something so innocent, so precious. Lucius snatched the firewhiskey bottle from the mantle and hurled it against the wall, snarling as it dripped down the tapestry. He quickly decided it didn't matter. The child had been his son's and in turn his grandchild. Regardless of the child's questionable blood, he had been a Malfoy and it was reprehensible for another to lay a hand upon his family.

He barely recalled shouting for a house elf or his interaction with the quivering creature until parchment and quill were gripped tightly in his fist. Lucius carefully constructed his words as the quill hastily scratched across the parchment. He shoved the missive into the trembling brown hands and sent him away. He wished for immediate answers and did not wish to rely upon owls.

"M-Master, Mistress declares Master has impeccable timing." The bulbous eyed house elf bowed deeply, cowering before the fury-ridden wizard. "Mistress was in the process of writing to Master. Mistress says Master is most impatient and must have broken into the Ancestry room again. Mistress says she is not angry and will return to the Manor soon. Mistress says Master should not have anymore firewhiskey." The little elf bobbed his head quickly in apology for the message he carried.

"Anything else Mistress demands of me Pocket?" Lucius Malfoy folded his arms across his chest and glowered upon the creature. Pocket the house elf, retreated slowly until he stood in the doorway. "Why are you rushing off? Is there more or am I to wallow in a world of non-information until my wife deems it necessary?"

"Mistress said I would need to retreat from Master after I deliver the rest of the message for Master will fly into a fury and Mistress does not wish for Pocket to be injured."

"Utter nonsense, go on then Pocket, give me the message." Lucius rolled his eyes while flinging his blonde hair over his shoulder.

"Mistress says Master should allow Harry Potter and the Ministry to handle the catastrophe. Mistress says she does not wish to see you in Azkaban for revenge seeking. Mistress says she's not one to keep secrets from Master even when she'd like too. Mistress…"

"Oh for the love of all that is bloody holy, would you get on with it?" Lucius grumbled while pinching the bridge of his nose. His tolerance for magical creatures was barely perceptible as it was; Pocket's long-winded explanation was enough to drive him back to the drink.

"Mistress says Master would wish to know the wizard who caused the demise of Master and Mistresses half-blood grandchild." Pocket paused, wringing his overly large hands in front of his small wrinkled body as he knees knocked together in nervousness.

"Mistress is correct as usual. I cannot say I'm fond of the Mud-Muggle-born witch however it seems my son is besotted with her to the extent he's chosen procreation. I always imagined my grandchildren to be beautiful blond purebloods, yet it seems Draco has had other ideas on the matter. Tell me then, whom shall I hold accountable for disrupting my son's thin grasp on happiness?" Lucius spat the last word as if it were offensive to him. It didn't matter in the least to Pocket; he still kept one eye on the corridor hoping he did not trip on his feet when it came time to hide from Master.

"Mistress says," Pocket took a deep breath and gripped the doorjamb tightly, "the Parkinsons have struck again and there shall be hell to pay." Pocket spun on his heel, his feet slapping against the marble while he rushed away from his Master.

The house elves cowered together that night, quivering beneath a large beige coverlet in the bowels of the Manor. They had decreed that while it was damp and chilly, it was better than listening to Master rant and rave. It was better than hearing spells bounce off the protected walls and ricochet into curio cabinets and sidebars. They covered their twitching ears as the roars reached a crescendo until finally, there was not silence, no there was only the sound of a callous man's heart shattering to pieces with desperate sobs.

* * *

(Draco)

* * *

"If there's uhm anything you need, please don't hesitate to let me know." Bill Weasley was nice enough I suppose, though he wouldn't look at me.

I didn't blame him, sometimes I could barely stand to look at me, but he was exceedingly kind to Hermione and that's what mattered. She hadn't said much since Mother and Ginny packed up a few of her belongings despite her protests and it scared me a little. I remembered how she was when we were in that Muggle facility and it seemed she was easily seguing back to that awful place.

It was the last thing I wanted, but at the same time I didn't wish to smother her. She would bury her feelings forever if she could and I wished she wouldn't. I wanted her to speak to me, to say anything really, but she remained eerily silent. She had a penchant for sitting in the window seat and staring out across the bluffs toward the sea. Perhaps it comforted her in a way I couldn't. I didn't much like that idea, but I was grasping at straws.

"Thank you." I called to Bill as he was easing the door shut and he stopped. You'd think I asked him to dance me a jig in a tutu from the look on his face. Had no one ever thanked him before? Oh wait, I'm Draco Malfoy, no one ever expects me to have a bit of manners. It's ridiculously irritating. Just because I was a complete arse during the War, doesn't mean I stayed one obviously. I mean think about it. The love of my life is a Muggle-born witch for Merlin's sake and I couldn't give a rat's arse about her bloody purity or any other such nonsense. She makes my life worth living and that's all there is to it.

"You really do love her…" Bill quirked his head a bit and I managed not to shudder in revulsion. Greyback really did a number on his face and well; Fleur wasn't the shallow witch I had always thought she was.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that? Yes I was an arse. Yes I freely admit it. Yes I was mean and cruel and quite horrid but it's obvious I've grown up. Yes, I love her. I should have never left her. I'll regret it for the rest of my days and I'll spend every waking moment proving to her I'm never leaving her again. Satisfied now?" I sat on the edge of the bed, keeping Hermione in my line of sight. I always felt a bit better if I could see her. Bill stepped back into the small bedroom and closed the door behind him. I could feel yet another lecture coming on and frankly I hadn't the patience.

"What of your father?" Well fuck, Bill actually had a point. My father was going to go absolutely ballistic, not that I blamed him. I ruined the tentative relationship our family had renewed with the Greengrasses and I couldn't give Merlin's left ball sack about it.

"He's going to be bloody fucking furious." It was true. Lucius was going to make my life a living hell. I couldn't resist the urge to glance upon Hermione. She was twirling a curl around her finger, staring into the distance and I felt my lips stretching into a grin. "She's worth it. My mother had one of those infuriating smirks on her face before she left. I'm going to assume she'll handle Father and if not, I suppose I'll stand in line behind the Weasley clan to hex him."

* * *

"Lucius! You're being unreasonable! Stop throwing things at me! You can't just bloody march up to the Parkinsons and demand a duel. It's in the hands of the Ministry and…"

"Fuck the Ministry." Lucius Malfoy flung yet another decanter toward the wall, causing Narcissa to duck as the glass shattered around her.

Narcissa couldn't remember the last time her husband had flown into such an inconsolable rage. She'd seem him angry of course, it was impossible to avoid such things after the life they've lived, but this fury was something different. A heart wrenching memory wormed its way to the surface of her daughter Lyra. Yes, it was something quite like that. Afterwards, Lucius had been almost broken by the loss and it seemed that while he detested the idea of half-blood children, the loss of one was more than he could bear. Narcissa studied the lines in his face, the constant flicker of his grey eyes, the tension in his shoulders and knew if she had delayed coming to him he would already be well into his cups and plotting the painful dismemberment of Taylor Johns.

"Lucius, it is quite unbecoming to reduce yourself to the despicable language our son uses. We're better than that. Why don't we sit on the veranda and discuss our…"

"There is nothing to discuss my dear Cissa. How many times shall I allow Ramses Parkinson and his Squib son to destroy our lives? What was the child? Was it as you thought?" Lucius Malfoy's shaking hand gripped the doorjamb with such force the wood creaked as he implored his wife for an answer.

"Yes, my love." Narcissa sighed, dabbing her eyes with a mint green handkerchief, "the child was a boy, and I'm sure he would have been beautiful. She named him Leonidas before he ever drew breath. I suppose that is the reason his bud decorated the tree. I always assumed he would have to draw breath but it seems I was wrong. Draco has taken her to the eldest Weasley boy's cottage. She hasn't spoken and Carina is quite reserved. I suppose she's sensing the tension around her. I would have brought her with me, however I'm glad I decided against it as I assume you do not wish to meet your only grandchild while covered in slivers of glass and reeking of firewhiskey." Narcissa continued to drone on in order to distract her husband and to a certain extent it was working.

Lucius stumbled toward a blood red armchair, sinking into its crushed velvet while he listened to the soothing voice he loved best. The words didn't matter; it was her presence, which caused the pounding behind his eyes to ebb. It was her cool palms across his forehead, which lessened the blinding ache in his chest. It was the soft kiss upon his brow, which brought him back to reality.

"What is it you'd like me to do my love? Wallow in misery while Harry Bloody Potter and his minions fumble yet another mission of importance? I sent a missive to Ramses, he has not seen fit to answer, which surprises me not at all. I assume that wretched woman Pariesna has interfered once more. She always was a difficult witch."

"To put it mildly. From my observations and of course the gentle art of eavesdropping, Pariesna slipped into Johns' cottage and whisked him away after Draco gave him a sound beating. She left Pixie behind and the poor girl has been taken into custody for questioning. I assume Ramses shall join her shortly, so you see Lucius, there is no need for you to rush into a fray that does not exist." Narcissa sighed and inspected her fingernails. She knew her husband was going to do whatever he so pleased, but at least she could say she put forth a valiant effort to dissuade him.

"Poor girl? The poor girl? Really, Cissa I'm surprised at you. She might have the makings of a pureblood wife, but she leaves much to be desired. Of course her penchant for women doesn't really help her father's cause in securing his legacy but there's no accounting for taste I suppose. Ramses would have been better off seeking an acceptable match for Pansy and Merlin knows that woman is insufferable. I do believe I would feel much better with a stroll on the grounds. It has been quite a trying day, I'm sure Pockets would be more than willing to see to tea." Lucius managed to kiss his wife's brow and disappear through the French doors before Narcissa could say a word.

She pretended she didn't hear the crack of Apparition and sent for Pockets. Lucius was quite right, it had been a long difficult day, and she really could use a spot of tea. Narcissa supposed whatever trouble Lucius Malfoy managed to land himself would make itself more than apparent by an influx of owls, visits or even a bellowing Howler or two. There was nothing left for her to do but take a deliciously long hot bath to ease the ache of her muscles and the troubles of her mind.

* * *

Pariesna Parkinson was a woman on a mission. She was well aware of the fact the Ministry was scouring the countryside for her only son, but dammed if she'd let them find him. No, Taylor was destined for great things, just as his father was before him. It wasn't the poor boy's fault his father was struck down in his prime, reducing him to nothing more than a wisp of the virile man he had been.

She wandered the cold corridors of her family estate nestled in the cave mouth in the historical region of Inner Carniola. She was ever so thankful Ramses had never learned of her ancestral family home as she was sure he would have confiscated the beautiful dwelling to house one of his many mistresses. Her thin lip curled at the thought of Ramses thrusting into Narcissa Black and the abominable child they conceived in secret.

"Mother, how long must we remain in bloody Croatia?" Taylor Johns interrupted his mother's musings with a curled lip and a tic in his cheek.

He had much more important things to be doing than scurrying away as if he were nothing more than a sewer rat. He had a wife to terrorise. Though, Johns imagined it wouldn't take long for the Wizengamot to grant Hermione a fucking divorce, but that wouldn't stop it. It was a Muggle ceremony after all. He had rights and no one was going to tell him different.

"Taylor, don't think I don't know what you're doing. You're planning on revisiting that vile Muggle you married. I still can't understand why you chose her. You're of the finest pureblood families to ever exist and you chose someone so incredibly beneath you it has given me a case of the vapors. Don't look at me like that. I'm well aware she's a renowned witch but it doesn't change her blood now does it? I suppose it would be different if she had managed to provide you with an heir…" Pariesna sighed dramatically, inspecting her manicured fingernails.

"She's a whore. She's always been a whore." Taylor snarled, wrapping a fur-lined cloak around his shoulders and settling near the fire.

"Yes well, that didn't stop you from marrying her. Don't you worry; Mummy will make it all better. I suppose I could convince your father to give you Pansy. She'd be acceptable I suppose. Your next marriage will be nothing short of brilliant." Pariesna clapped her hands, her eyes suddenly sparkling. "Give me a moment, I'll send for her."

"Mum, I'm not…I mean…I realise I have a penchant for the bizarre, but even I must draw the line when it comes to engaging in a true relationship with my sister." Taylor gagged, sucking down the bile of revulsion.

He'd grown quite adept at hiding his true emotions from everyone and this instance was no different. Secretly he was beside himself with the idea of feeling Pansy's young supple body beneath his once more. He had always blamed his moments of weakness on an errant youth but here was his mother, presenting him with that which he craved most. He could barely contain himself and was quite thankful the cloak hid his throbbing erection.

"My silly boy, Pansy isn't your sister. Merlin do you really believe I birthed that child? Look at me with my blonde waves and her with hair dark as pitch. You look like me of course, but Pansy?" Pariesna waved her hand, "she's the result of one of Ramses many dalliances, just like her sister Pixie. I pretend for the sake of propriety, it's easier that way. Come on then, you simply must bathe. I'll show you to your chambers just this once. It would be best if you allow me to speak with Pansy first. Please remain in your chambers." Taylor dutifully followed his mother and while her words were said without a care, the underlying message was quite clear.

He knew better than to defy her. His mother had always doted on him, but she was quick to anger, which never bode well for him. She had often regaled him with stories of his father and secretly he aspired to be a great man like he was. Taylor knew he wasn't truly a wizard, but he had wizard blood, which was more than some. He hoped one day to have an heir with the magical ability of his father, the cunning of his mother and his own sadistic nature. He supposed it was strange to long for the things he did, but he truly didn't know any other way. His mother had fed his ubiquitous obsession with a frenzy unmatched and he had basked in the attention.

Pariesna on the other hand, was tingling with glee. She had always despised Ramses eldest girl. Pansy was talented as far as magic was concerned and she was a pretty girl, but she simply reminded Pariesna of her husband's folly. It was bad enough it had happened before they were married, yet it was something else entirely once the vows had been exchanged. She had always refused to admit to her own culpability in the matter, simply laying all the blame on Ramses. She hadn't strayed from her marriage, though it had been easy enough to trap the wealthy and devastatingly handsome wizard in her youth. He was nothing when compared with her Tom, but in the absence of her true love, Ramses would suffice.

After gesturing toward Taylor's bedchamber in silence, she scurried back to the quaint study and charmed the parchment. She cajoled a small brown owl to carry the missive for her and rubbed her hands together. She couldn't help but to allow a throaty laugh escape. Pansy wouldn't know what hit her. It wasn't often her 'mother' sent her a letter and Pariesna knew the girl wouldn't hesitate to open it. Pansy would never think to check the parchment for Charms, which worked to her advantage really. How else was she supposed to entice the spoiled witch to come to Croatia of all places?

It took longer than Pariesna wished, yet the moment arrived and she was prepared. With a grunt and a groan, Pansy Parkinson landed in an unceremonious heap on the hand woven area rug. Pariesna disarmed her immediately, stuffing Pansy's wand into the pocket of her full skirt with an easy smile. Pansy blinked her long dark eyelashes a few times, acclimating to her new surroundings.

"Mother? I don't…" The resounding slap stopped her cold. Pansy swallowed hard and began again. "Pari? I don't understand why I'm here. How did…where are we?" Pansy refrained from rubbing the sting from her cheek, knowing her 'mother' would revel in the pain she had caused.

"I'm sure you're more than aware of the issues my poor Taylor has been plagued. We've decided it is in his best interest to move on quickly from his folly so that he may regain his standing in the wizarding community. Your father took it upon himself to banish the poor boy and since Ramses is in Ministry custody as far as I know, it is up to me to repair the damages. You'll be most helpful in this regard." Pariesna smiled sweetly while walking a slow circle around the dark haired witch.

She reached out and quickly untied Pansy's cloak, allowing it to drop to the ice-cold stone floor. The chill in the air instantly seeped into Pansy's skin and she couldn't help but shiver. Pariesna stood behind her and placed her cold fingers on Pansy's shoulders. She yanked the young witch backward and rubbed the chill from Pansy's arms.

"What is it you expect me to do? Taylor assaulted Hermione Granger and she's under guard by the Aurors." Pansy's entire diatribe stuck in her throat, as Pariesna inspected her body.

Her hands moved from Pansy's shoulders to her arms and back up before she settled them on her waist. She encircled Pansy in some semblance of a hug, which was strange enough until Pariesna hefted her breasts in her palms. From there, Pariesna stroked Pansy's ample backside and even had the gall to lift her skirts to inspect her long legs.

"Are you a lesbian like your sister?" Pariesna cooed into Pansy's ear and while Pansy wished nothing more than to hex the bint, she was wandless.

"N-no, Pari please, what are you doing? You're my…well the closest thing to a mother I've ever had and I…" Pansy choked on a sob, instantly covering her face.

"Oh my dear, I've been nothing of the sort and it would be best if we did not lie to one another. Don't worry your pretty little head about it. I have no intention of molesting you. I was simply inspecting the wares before I present them to my son." Pariesna shoved Pansy none too gently until she had no other choice but to sit upon the small brown loveseat before the fire.

"Present me to your son? What do you mean? You can't be serious. I mean Taylor is…and I'm…it's just…" Pansy stammered, avoiding her faux mother's probing gaze and the fingertips stroking the pearl buttons of her cream blouse.

"Of course I'm serious. I'm always serious. Your mother was a pureblood, though definitively low born it doesn't matter. Your father is one of the oldest pureblood families to ever exist. It's up to you to provide Taylor with a worthy magical heir. Come on now Pansy darling, it's not as if you haven't done it before." Pariesna wrenched the blouse from Pansy's shoulders and it was all Pansy could do to keep from screaming and running from the insane witch. She knew she wouldn't get far, but it didn't stop the thoughts from bubbling to the surface.

"You swore to never speak of it." Pansy whispered in a trembling voice that did not resemble her in the least.

Her sheer demi-bra left little to the imagination and Pansy pushed aside the notion Pariesna was ogling her and closed her eyes. She couldn't believe she had been so naïve as to believe her pseudo mother actually wished to speak with her. She had eagerly opened the missive, still longing for a mother she'd never truly had. It was always in retrospect that one recognised the error of their ways.

She hadn't grown up with Taylor but she'd always known of him and when she was a teenager he had been summoned home for a visit. He was already well into his twenties but that didn't stop him from practically salivating every time he spied her lounging by the pool. Taylor had cornered her one hot summer day in the west wing of the Parkinson estate.

Pansy felt the tears pricking her eyes as she remembered his hot breath against her throat when he shoved her into the wall.

"_You're a fucking tease, Pans, swaying your hips like a common whore. Have you been fucked yet? I bet you have. There's not a chance in bloody hell those Hogwarts boys haven't been in your knickers. It's only fair I get a taste now isn't it?" Taylor used his burly chest to flatten Pansy against a rough tapestry, his hands stroking her bare hips._

_She regretted wandering around her family home scantily clad in a vibrant green bikini. Her father had warned her to tread carefully, but she hadn't understood his vague meaning until exactly that moment. Pansy struggled against Taylor, but stilled when he began to grind into her bottom. Her voice was lost upon feeling his blatant arousal._

"_Please don't." Pansy managed to whimper while his fingers danced upon the silky material of her swimwear. _

_Taylor grunted and quickly shoved her into the nearest room and for a moment she was thankful it wasn't hers until she spied the large bed in the center. He captured her hands, ignoring her silent protests and her tears and bent her over the side of the four-poster bed. He plucked the strings of her bikini bottom and peeled it from her young vibrant skin. He kicked her legs apart, pinning her to the bed with one arm._

"_Have you then?" Taylor leaned over her, running his hand over the curve of her bum._

_Pansy kicked her legs and flailed her arms, but Taylor only laughed and slapped her bum until she yowled in pain. He untied her top and straddled her back, kneading his fingers in her tanned supple skin. Taylor turned her face to the side, quite discontent with her stifled tears. He wanted to hear her sobs and see the fear in her eyes._

"_N-no Taylor." _

"_No Taylor what?" He teased her, biting her neck hard._

_He rolled off Pansy and she quickly rolled onto her side, intending to vacate the room but he was faster than she thought. Nary a moment later she was pinned on her back while he leered at her voluptuous breasts. Her chest heaved with exertion, which only made his eyes darken with an undisguised lust._

"_No Taylor, I've never…I've never been shagged." Pansy no longer attempted to hide her tears._

_Her shoulders shook as she sobbed while he toyed with her breasts until her nipples hardened beneath his ministrations. Taylor braced his forearm across her throat and dipped his hand between her legs. Pansy clenched her knees tightly shut until he slapped her._

"_How old are you now? I've forgotten. It's been so long since I've seen you." Taylor suckled at her breast while forcing her legs apart._

"_Six-sixteen." She gagged on her own saliva when his calloused fingers brushed against her folds._

"_Sixteen and you've never shagged? Ever let a bloke touch you at all? For a tease you're quite the prude aren't you. Have you ever seen a man? If you're nice to me, I won't hurt you." Pansy trembled and stopped fighting and his grip loosened._

_Her feet dangled just above the hardwood floor and it was uncomfortable but she'd witnessed Taylor's temper first hand. She knew better than to move an inch. She kept her eyes shut, listening to the sound of his breaths and hoping against hope he would decide enough was enough and allow her to leave. Pansy listened to his footfalls and almost breathed a sigh of relief but Taylor quickly returned. She decided it was in her best interest to answer his questions no matter how mortifying they were._

"_I've snogged a bit but I've never done more nor have I seen more." Her voice was surprisingly calm considering the situation._

"_Put your heels on the edge of the bed and spread your legs." Pansy hesitated and received yet another slap before she did exactly as he said. "Good girl. I'm going to groom you. It seems you were never taught the art of pleasing a man and you want to be pleasing don't you Pansy? If you don't please me, well you won't like that one bit. You're so very ripe for the picking." Taylor crooned while he stroked her thighs._

_Pansy gasped when she felt the warm, wet cloth on her sex and realised Taylor's intentions. He washed her almost lovingly before setting about to remove her pubic hair. She managed to keep her tears to a minimum, even when he spread her lips, gently stroking her. He stopped as quickly as he started, allowing her to catch her breath, but it was short lived._

_Taylor yanked her arms over her head and bound them with what she imagined was coarse rope, though where he attached the end was beyond her. Pansy refused to open her eyes and as he was set on his task, it didn't bother him for the moment. He maneuvered himself over her and pressed her breasts together with a moan._

"_Taylor," Pansy couldn't help but to beg him once last time, "please…please don't shag me." Her voice broke but as for Taylor, he laughed._

"_That's not very nice now is it Pansy?" Taylor licked her earlobe while twisting one of her pert nipples. "You're going to want me to fuck you by the time I'm done playing with my new toy. You don't believe me; I can sense it. Your body wants this Pansy, trust me." Pansy wasn't sure when Taylor had removed his shirt but the smattering of hair on his chest brushed against her sensitive nipples and in that moment she despised her own body._

_Her breasts ached and there was even the slightest throb between her legs, despite the man on top of her. Taylor nibbled her throat, while his hands continued to pay special attention to her blush nipples until she groaned. Pansy bit her lip, tasting the salt of her own tears. Her feet slipped from their position and she couldn't resist testing her bindings._

"_You're not being nice to me Pansy and that hurts my feelings. Sometimes when my feelings are really quite hurt, I get a bit angry and I can't imagine that boding well for you. Are you going to behave for me now or will I have to punish you?" Taylor twisted one of Pansy's nipples until she squealed in pain._

"_I'll be good. I swear it!" Pansy shouted if only to make the pain stop._

_She was instantly rewarded with the release of her throbbing breast and dissolved into sobs once more. If she had been able, Pansy would have curled into a ball, hugged her knees, and hope it was all some horrible nightmare. Instead, her feet were slammed onto the edge of the mattress and her knees were wrenched open. Taylor languidly worked his way down her body, reveling in her discomfort, sucking away her tears with a leering grin._

"_Taylor! What on earth!" Pansy's shoulders sagged in relief._

_It was Pariesna; she had found them. Surely Taylor's mother would stop him from continuing. She listened to the sound of clipped steps across the floor and slowly opened her eyes. Pariesna glared down at the young witch's young and quite supple body, recognizing the beauty of youth. To Pansy's utter horror, Taylor simply covered her breasts with his hands, wedging himself between her legs._

"_Pansy here was being nice to me Mum. I thought it was high time she learned the proper way to please a man, wouldn't you agree?" Taylor glanced up at his mother with a wide smile and a twinkle in his eyes, which chilled Pansy to the bone. She opened her mouth to scream…_

"_Silenco!" Pariesna flicked her wand with a casual roll of her eyes. "I've told you time and time again to at least have the decency to gag them. You're lucky Ramses had to attend to business this weekend. I could hear her ridiculous sniffles down in the garden. Imagine if I had guests! I told you Taylor, my darling, next time simply ask me and I shall Imperio them for you. Pansy here is sixteen already, it's high time her father find her a husband, but he won't even consider it. It's pure stubbornness really. She'll be seventeen before the year is out and you're absolutely correct. Teach her then and teach her well. You've the weekend and I expect results." Pariesna spun on her heel and Pansy's mouth gaped open in horror._

"_Mum…if you will." Taylor gestured toward his mother's wand and wiggled his dark eyebrows._

_For a moment, Pariesna was reminded of his father. How she had loved Tom Riddle when they were young. It was such a shame Taylor was a Squib. She was sure Tom would have accepted her back into his fold if their son had a spark of magical ability. She sighed with regret and pointed her wand at a naked Pansy Parkinson._

"_Imperio. Anything he asks you shall do with vigor, until he is sated and his visit is over." Pariesna left the room with a flourish, silencing the wing for the sake of their house elves._

_The little bastards did have a tendency to tell Ramses Parkinson everything their oversized ears managed to hear. It was quite tedious punishing them. Without another thought of Pansy, Pariesna set about ordering the elves to fetch her a spot of tea and some biscuits._

_Pansy struggled against the unfamiliar curse, but it was no use really. She'd never been taught the art of Defence Against the Dark Arts in terms of Unforgivables. She was completely at Taylor Johns mercy._

"_I'm going to unbind you now and you're going to sit up and smile." Taylor ran a fingertip down her body, before untying the coarse ropes at her wrists._

_He was pleased to note she didn't even bother to rub the raw red marks decorating her swollen wrists. Instead, she did exactly as he demanded and Taylor didn't even mind the lifeless quality of her eyes. Her breasts bounced in a most tantalizing manner, but he wanted to toy with Pansy a bit more before he got down to the humiliation portion of the evening._

"_Crawl up on the bed and recline upon the pillows." Internally Pansy was shouting and berating herself for following his every command._

_She wanted nothing more than to cry when he commanded her to squeeze her breasts and open her legs. She wished she were dead when he began kissing her legs, working his way up her thighs. While she might have moaned in faux pleasure when his tongue teased her sex, her body responded which made her detest her very existence._

"_Pansy darling, I told you your body would betray you and it has. You're so wet. I'm really going to enjoy fucking you. They say a girl always remembers her first." Taylor chuckled and slid his fingers between her folds with a moan._

_Pansy hated the way her breaths quickened and her body arched while he stroked and teased her flesh. She willed her hips to remain still, but of course they didn't listen and soon enough she was writhing against his palm while he consumed her mouth with his. She whimpered into his mouth as her abdomen tightened and her legs shook. She knew it was only a matter of time before her body fully betrayed her and she was absolutely right. _

"_Beg me." Taylor growled, biting her neck so hard she knew it would leave a mark._

"_Please." Pansy didn't recognise the sultry quality of her voice but it didn't matter because of the blinding pain._

_She saw stars when Taylor shoved into her. He hadn't wait for her to adjust to his impressive size before he was thrusting past her barrier with an almost hateful ferocity. Taylor greedily watched her breasts bounce, leaning down to tease them with his tongue while taking his pleasure from her. She was so young, so innocent and so tight it was a miracle he hadn't taken her weeks ago. It didn't take him long to finish, groaning loudly against her throat as she quivered around him._

"She was a beautiful piece, one I wouldn't mind sampling again." Taylor Johns leaned casually against the fireplace, eyeing Pansy.

He couldn't help but to let his eyes drop to her breasts. He was always quite fond of them. In fact, he had many a fantasy over the years, which featured her breasts and her pert arse bent over his bed. His cock twitched with anticipation.

"Taylor, darling I told you to remain in your chambers. I was simply preparing her for her new life. It would be best if you impregnated her immediately. I've already spoken to the family solicitor and he's in the process of having the Muggle divorce papers drawn. I've confiscated Pansy's wand so there's no need to worry there…."

"Has she been fucked recently?" Taylor interrupted Pariesna, wishing Pansy's skirt were nothing more than a memory.

"Answer him you insipid girl." Pariesna snarled, gripping the back of Pansy's hair in an iron fist.

"No." Pansy spat, snarling despite her current predicament.

Pariesna and Taylor shared a silent conversation, which involved the woman immediately vacating the room. Taylor strode toward her and yanked Pansy to her feet by her long hair. He hummed in appreciation as she squirmed against him and he didn't waste any time in smacking her round bum soundly.

"You were always my favourite shag Pansy." Taylor fumbled with her skirts until he was stroking her thin panties.

He pushed aside the lacy material and thrust his fingers inside her. Pansy opened her mouth to shout an obscenity but found Taylor's tongue in her mouth while his fingers carefully worked her until she was wet enough for his pleasure. Her nipples hardened immediately testing the limits of her bra and Taylor hummed in approval before tearing it off her.

"Taylor, you…you don't have to do this." Pansy managed to pant while Taylor decorated her throat in love bites.

She knew it was futile to resist. Her body had never forgotten her sordid weekend with Taylor, or the following week when he had shagged her whenever her father wasn't about. He had learned exactly what her body liked and used it to his advantage. Taylor's defining moments were causing Pansy to writhe in an ecstasy she detested. He adored humiliating her almost as much as he enjoyed bringing her to pleasure over and over again. Pansy had never managed to be intimate with anyone else, terrified her partner would realise she had been defiled by her societal brother. It didn't matter that they weren't blood related; society would always consider them family even if they pretended to accept the relationship thrust upon her.

"Oh but Pansy, I've missed you so. You've got a great set of tits. I can hardly wait to fuck you senseless. Mum provided me with a delightful new Potion. You've got one too. Mine is apparently for stamina, I'm sure you'll enjoy it but I believe yours is for fertility and pleasure." Taylor rutted against her shamelessly and sucked her nipples hard.

He kept his hand firmly between her legs, stroking her ever so gently in the featherlike manner, which drove Pansy absolutely batty. The harder he lavished her nipples, the wetter she became until she was biting her lip to keep from begging him for release. Taylor brushed across the throbbing bundle of nerves and Pansy whimpered, which allowed Taylor ample opportunity to pour the Potion down her throat. Pansy choked on it but swallowed most of it just the same and her knees buckled.

Taylor followed her to the loveseat, dropping to his knees and tossing her skirts up. Pansy felt as if her skin were on fire. She convulsed against his tongue, feeling wave upon wave crash over her as her back arched and she shuddered in embarrassed release. Pansy cried into the safety of her arms even as Taylor rubbed his cock along her folds, dipping into her juices to tease her.

"I'm going to fuck your arse. Something new for you to enjoy." Taylor smirked and the evil glint in his dark blue eyes terrified her. "First I'd like to see if you're just as tight as I remember." Pansy could barely move, let alone breathe and she blamed the Potion.

"Not my arse." Pansy sighed, feeling her hands being tightly twisted behind her back while Taylor slammed into her.

"Oh baby, still so tight. I bet mum has a Charm to keep you that way." Taylor growled unable to resist the urge to bite her.

Taylor clamped down on her left nipple, as it was his favourite and sucked so hard, Pansy cried out in pain, which simply spurred him on. He slid from her warmth and dipped into her arse, testing the limits of the Potion. Pansy struggled, shouted, begged, and even cried but it didn't stop him from pressing forward. He grunted with the effort and casually caressed her folds until she convulsed once more.

"Such a shame I can't get you up the duff just like this." Taylor cackled at his own joke, carefully removing himself from her tight arse and thrust his pelvis until it ground against the nub that taunted him.

It didn't take him but a moment to see the tears seeping from her dark eyes, which only spurred his own pleasure until he was emptying his seed into her. Pansy expected him to roll off her but he didn't. Taylor remained firmly lodged within her, content to molest her breasts until the Potion forced yet another release.

"That should do it. Wouldn't want a precious drop spilled now would we? Come along then Pans. I think you deserve a bath and then I believe I'll fuck you again." Taylor leaned down and kissed her so tenderly, Pansy could almost pretend it was real.

Taylor's fingertips ran along her jawline as he deepened the kiss and she felt him stir within her. Pansy tried to remain complacent but the Potion had other ideas. She moved her lips against his slowly at first, tentatively at best and Taylor groaned, unable to resist the draw of her perfect breasts.

"What do you think of adding another woman? I've always been a bit curious and it's not as if Pixie would allow me to watch or anything. It wouldn't be her of course, she's actually related to you. Perhaps her girlfriend though, she has an absolutely gorgeous body and I'd love to see her planted between your thighs." Taylor began moving ever so slowly and tossed one of Pansy's legs over his hip, thoroughly pleased with both Potions.

Pansy opened her mouth to retort but it seemed the most she could do was pant, groan, moan, and whimper. It was more than disconcerting for her, but it seemed it was yet another thing out of her control. She constantly wondered what the point of being an adept witch was if she couldn't even defend herself when necessary.

"I think if I were ever going to truly love a woman, it would be you Pans. You're absolutely delectable. I'll never get enough of you and I'll never let you go." Taylor breathed softly into her ear, licking her earlobe as he spilt himself within her once more.

* * *

"You mean to tell me Pansy was fucking her brother?" Harry Potter gagged more than a bit, willing the imagery to cease.

"You're a terrible listener Potter. That's not what I said at all. What I actually said was Pansy was forced into fucking Taylor when she was sixteen. It continued through out the war because her father had to hide her somewhere during the reign of the nose-less madman. Taylor isn't even her brother, not really. He's Pariesna's kid and Pansy isn't, neither is Pixie for that matter but no one really seems to care in the least." Blaise Zabini rolled his eyes and drank from the flask conveniently hidden in his robes.

"Drinking again Zabini? For Merlin's sake you're supposed to be helping me!" Harry gripped his black hair and stared at the parchment laid before him with bleary eyes.

"Potter, it's the middle of the fucking night. You're the one that asked about Johns sexual proclivities and now you're angry because he fucked Pansy?"

"Oi! The only reason I even brought up Pansy was because Roger bloody Davies made a report that she's missing. I thought perhaps you might have a clue considering how close you are with her. I didn't exactly ask for a play by play concerning the breasts Johns is obsessed with and her bloody virginity!" Harry stood up suddenly, knocking the chair into the wall behind him.

"How am I supposed to know where she is? Pansy isn't exactly known for disappearing. Well, except for during the war but that was her father's doing. Ramses said it was to keep her safe but all he did was provide Johns with a fuck toy." Blaise tipped his chair back with a sigh and another swig from his flask.

He had long since loosened his robes and even unbuttoned the top few buttons of his green dress shirt. They'd been at it for hours. At least there was solace in the fact Hermione and Draco were safely ensconced in Shell Cottage. Blaise chuckled at the idea of Draco Malfoy being surrounded by Weasleys.

"Why didn't she just hex the bloke? I mean, she is a witch and he's just a Squib." Harry rubbed his eyes, dropping his round glasses on the desk with a tired sigh.

"Oh Potter, you naïve little scarboy. They always take her wand, which doesn't leave her with many options now does it? From what she's told me, the first time or two she was under the Imperious and I think after that she just sort of gave up. She's been dating that Roger bloke for a year and hasn't shagged him yet. She's got a terrible bout of guilt. If she's truly missing it wouldn't surprise me to discover she's with Pariesna and Taylor." Blaise tossed his feet up on the desk, ignoring Harry's snarl.

"I can't bloody believe the Ministry released Ramses and Pixie." Harry attempted to knock Blaise's sock clad feet from the imposing desk but Blaise kicked him.

"Ramses was planning on turning in Johns. He's finally admitted the bastard isn't his son, though I'm sure we're all bloody dying to know how Pariesna managed to alter the paternity test. He's paid a hefty fine for his complicity in Johns other crimes, but honestly? The Ministry couldn't give a flying hippogriff's arse that a Squib murdered a few Muggles. The only reason they're up your arse is because the famous Hermione Granger is involved."

Harry knew Blaise was absolutely right and it irritated him more than he could say. He always knew the Ministry was completely blasé when it came to Muggle affairs, but there wasn't much he could do about it. He is an Auror and his job had always been to catch those who had broken the Wizarding Laws. Harry loved the thrill of it and wasn't ashamed to admit it, however when Hermione was involved it added stress as well, and it just so happened to emotionally compromise him.

"I just want to find them." Harry groaned, finally sinking back into the office chair.

"Potter, there's a team of Aurors keeping an eye on Ramses and Pixie, there's nothing more you can do."

"Bollocks!" Lucius Malfoy stormed into the shabby study with his pale blonde hair swaying and a permanent snarl on his lips.

Harry and Blaise's mouths dropped open in a cross somewhere between surprise and horror. Of course they knew they were in the confines of Malfoy Manor but Lucius had always provided them with a wide berth. Narcissa had threatened him with the dungeons and while they'd seen him in the corridors he had always avoided conversation. It seemed something drastic had happened in order to alter his opinion of The Boy Who Lived.

"Oh don't look at me like that. I've allowed you the use of one of my studies and being exactly who you are; it's obvious you've chosen poorly. The upstairs study has a much better library and access to Restricted Documents. Of course if you repeat it, I'll hex you and deny it. Come along then, we've got work to do." Lucius spun on his heel, Harry and Blaise dutifully following him, still slightly dazed.

"What the fuck just happened?" Blaise whispered to Harry as they traversed the long corridors and climbed another flight of stairs.

"I don't bloody know; I was going to ask you." Harry whispered back, wondering if he was delirious.

"I'm afraid."

"Get off me Zabini! I'm not going to bloody hold you!" Harry gave the larger wizard a shove and followed Lucius Malfoy into the most impressive study he'd ever seen.

The walls were lined with books and dual desks sat centered in the middle of the room, surrounded by plush armchairs with a soothing fire crackling in the hearth. It seemed Lucius had been hard at work. There were numerous maps spread across the tables with varying red lines, blue circles, and green question marks. The notes in the margins flickered in gold and Harry Potter was quite impressed.

"Why are you helping us?" Harry thought it best to include Blaise in the scenario even if he wasn't an official Ministry employee.

"Taylor Johns murdered the only daughter I've ever known. He's beaten and abused the only woman my only son has ever loved and it seems he's also murdered my grandson. I've stood idly by long enough. My family has always been of the upmost importance and a silly little matter such as my grandchildren's blood is surely not going to stop me from seeking vengeance. Now, are you going to aid me or simply gape at me like the imbeciles I've always suspected you are?" Lucius tossed his long platinum hair over his shoulder and sat in the largest armchair before one of the desks.

Frankly it reminded Harry of a throne, but he wasn't about to comment on it. Instead he settled himself across from Lucius and studied the closest map. It just so happened to mark Hermione's former home and even included her Nanny's residence. Harry noted the Parkinson's maintained a residence near Penzance which was entirely too close for his comfort.

"The Penzance residence is vacant." Lucius scathingly muttered while observing Blaise Zabini drink all his firewhiskey and Harry Potter inspect the notes in the margins at a snail-like pace. "Before you even ask, I immediately Apparated there upon the discovery of my grandson's demise. I'm quite thankful Narcissa saw fit to let me rage about." He ignored the inquiring glance from the scar-headed wizard in favour of sipping from his crystal tumbler.

"Where are Ramses and Pixie currently? Are their owls being monitored?" Harry scratched the stubble on his chin before snatching a blank piece of parchment and a quill.

"Ramses is drowning himself in drink at the Leaky Cauldron. He's taken a room upstairs and seems content to remain there for the time being. Pixie immediately ventured to Daphne Greengrass, now that's a witch that is a fair amount of trouble. I'm surprised she bothered with that Weasley you're quite obsessed with. She's quite formidable in the Dark Arts and I suppose her sexual predilections wouldn't keep her from shagging Hagrid if the opportunity arose."

"I'm going to be sick." Blaise covered his mouth with hands obviously overcome with the imagery of Daphne Greengrass spread eagle naked beneath the hulking half-giant.

"Is anyone keeping an eye on her then?" Harry ignored Blaise's dramatic gagging in favour of getting back to the matter at hand.

"Whatever for? Daphne has never had any contact with Taylor Johns; the Ministry considered her involvement with Pixie Parkinson a non-issue. However, I have a working relationship with the witch's father and if anything were remiss he would not hesitate to contact me." Lucius Malfoy tented his fingers, with his elbows resting on the edge of the dark wood desk as he stared at the flickering flames in the hearth.

"Does Pariesna own property without Ramses?" Harry tapped his quill on the parchment, wondering how Lucius had managed to procure so much information in such a short period of time.

"Of course Potter, all pureblood witches do. Narcissa has a lovely castle nestled in the Black Forest and if memory serves me correctly there's a delightful chateau in Spain as well. She informed me of such immediately following our nuptials though it is safe to assume Pariesna Parkinson did not provide the same information to her husband. You do realise the witch had a tumultuous relationship with Tom Riddle?" Even after all these years, Lucius Malfoy was unable to utter the Dark Lord's name, though he did not let it bother him in the least. It seemed many in the wizarding community were afflicted with such an aversion.

"Pariesna Parkinson was in a relationship with Tom Riddle? When was this?" Blaise was afflicted with a terrible case of the dry heaves and Lucius hoped the poor boy didn't spill his stomach contents on his Oriental rug. He was quite attached to it.

"Long before you were ever born, Potter. It seems Tom Riddle was quite the ladies man during his years at Hogwarts, despite his love affair with the Dark Arts. Pariesna fell under his spell and soon beneath his sheets, just as many a witch before her. I suppose the only real difference is she managed to find herself with child. I don't have first hand information of course as I was but a child, but I've always heard the whispers. Apparently they carried on for years before she fell pregnant and by that time Narcissa had an unscrupulous liaison with Ramses Parkinson. He was quite determined to best me in something, but no matter. I won the best witch in the end, whereas he became trapped by Tom Riddle's cast-offs and his Squib son." Lucius allowed a small smile to grace his features, which set Harry on edge.

"I wasn't aware Johns was that much older? How old is he? What was Pariesna's family name? What I wouldn't give to have seen Voldemort's face when he discovered his only son is a Squib." Harry snickered slightly, instantly sobering as Lucius glared.

"Taylor Johns was born a decade before your time Potter. Pariesna has a number of years on her husband, which is neither here nor there I suppose. Pariesna's family is one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight of which I assume you're familiar. Her father was quite appalled when he discovered she was with child and schemed to trap her a husband. For reasons only she can explain, she had her eyes set on Ramses Parkinson and her father made it so. Pariesna Burke was a terrifying witch and it seems times have not changed overly so."

"Uncle Lucis you've always been a terrible liar. Potter, don't listen to him. Pariesna wanted Lucius for a match but he adamantly refused. It was all one big disgusting pureblood orgy almost. I mean, Ramses Parkinson was sticking it to Narcissa and Pariesna wanted Lucius to stick it to her but he was obsessed with Aunt Cissy and well I don't know where Aunt Cissy stood in the mix, but she married Lucius. I always assumed the Blacks would rather their daughter marry a Malfoy than a Parkinson. My mum says that Pariesna went bloody ballistic when she discovered she wouldn't be marrying Lucius but her father got her in line. She despised Narcissa and it only seemed to get worse after Lyra." Blaise took a breath and gulped down the amber liquid in his glass.

Lucius drew his wand and casually jabbed Blaise in the throat, his hand twitching in rage. Harry Potter wasn't sure if it was in his best interest to intervene. The longer he thought about it, the longer he remained still. Harry supposed Blaise hadn't even realised he'd been quite insulting to Lucius Malfoy's wife and while Lucius had a tendency to be a cantankerous bastard, he wasn't about to allow his family name to be maligned by anyone.

"Apologise." Lucius hissed, twisting his wand slightly, enjoying Blaise's wince of discomfort.

"I-I didn't mean anything by it…I…" Blaise swallowed hard, causing him more pain and took a shuddered breath. "I'm sorry."

Lucius shoved the wizard and his chest heaved with the exertion of keeping his temper in check. He had half a mind to leave the bumbling wizards in his home and set out for parts unknown. Eventually they'd make a mistake. Eventually they would show their hand. Eventually he would stumble across them. Eventually he would kill them and with that thought, Lucius Malfoy smiled broadly and began to plot.


	13. Predilections

**AN: Warning - Extremely Mature Content Ahead**

**so yes it's taken me forever but as i've said before writing this particular story is quite difficult on a personal level...however since most of the angsty painful things have passed, i expect it will be easier to continue. i make no promises.**

**also. there are probably errors as i'm just terrible at proofreading because it makes my eyes cross which is unpleasant.**

**as always - thanx for reading *kisses***

* * *

Chapter 13 – Predilections

* * *

(Daphne)

* * *

_"Five thousand galleons for the honour of your company. If you accept my invitation simply touch the parchment at exactly 5pm. It shall bring you directly to me. TMR"_

I glanced at the sleeping witch beside me hoping she wouldn't stir.

She's pleasant enough I suppose, though she's downright possessive which has grown tiring. It's not that I don't enjoy her company, I do. I just so happen to enjoy the company of men as well and that's where we differ the most. Pixie has always known she preferred women, whereas I have always been a bit more open-minded.

She was absolutely livid when I dallied with Ron Weasley and while it was a short liaison you'd think I had cheated on her. We've never bothered to define our 'relationship' though not from her lack of trying. I'd never seen a woman so intent upon pressing for a commitment. It's not as if the wizarding community would truly accept us, so what did it matter if I shagged a fair amount of wizards as well? It satisfied my father to see me on the arm of a handsome young wizard. It kept his dream of grandchildren alive, considering my sister was a right mess. That girl was never going to find a wizard to put up with her prudish ways.

I managed to slip out of bed without waking her, thank Merlin. Knowing Pixie, she would whine and complain while attempting to cajole me back into bed for a less than satisfying round of touching. Surprisingly, Pixie was a bit of a prude, perhaps I could convince my sister to give her a go. The thought amused me to the point of stifled laughter and Pixie moaned before she rolled on her back.

I preferred it when she was sleeping. Her breasts were small, but perfectly round and I did adore the way her stomach dipped in the center showing off her lithe lines. She was incredibly thin and in the beginning I found it sexy. It had been years since she'd been the slightest bit adventurous though and it saddened me. The very thought of adding another witch or Merlin forbid a wizard to our stale bedroom sent her directly into fits.

I sighed and glanced at my naked form in the full-length mirror. I wasn't bad looking. My stomach was flat and toned, my breasts were high and full and while I didn't have much in the arse department I like to think my prowess in the bedroom more than made up for it. I slipped on a pair of sheer black knickers and tossed my dark hair over my shoulder. It was easy enough to scour Pixie's closet for a dress that would conform to my figure without magic.

I always did love to show off my legs. I'm a tall witch and I've always thought my legs were my best feature. I decided the clinging satin red dress would suit my purpose just fine. I hadn't the slightest idea who TMR could be, but I was practically wet with the idea of finding out. I had decided to accept the invitation before ever crawling out of bed. If I were lucky, Pixie would remain slumbering.

I shimmied into the dress and adjusted my ample bosom. They almost spilled over the top and I made a mental note not to take any deep breaths lest my nipples decided to make a premature appearance. I slipped my feet into a pair of strappy black sandals with quite an impressive heel. I stumbled over Pixie's discarded clothing and I held my breath as her eyes fluttered open.

"Daph? What you doing? Are you going somewhere?" Merlin Pixie's nasal voice was going to be the end of me.

"I've been summoned. You know I haven't a choice in the matter." It was easy to let her believe my father had demanded my presence. She never argued where he was concerned as she was quite used to such antics from her own family.

"Really? Well that puts a kink in things now doesn't it? I was sort of hoping you'd stay with me for a bit. It's been such a trying day with my brother and my dad. I haven't even spoken to my mother. I don't even know where she is, but knowing her, she's off protecting Taylor. I'm so thankful the Ministry didn't lock me up in Azkaban." Pixie sighed dramatically and pulled the crisp white sheet over her breasts.

I wasn't willing to listen to her lament her day any longer. I sat beside her and held her while she cried for bloody hours. I am not the cuddling sort of witch. I do not comfort. I fuck and I fuck hard, but of course I don't get to do any of those things with Pixie. Fuck, why do I put up with her? Oh yes, that's right the money. She does lavish me with expensive gifts and once in awhile if I'm lucky a tepid orgasm as well. Pixie is a terrible lesbian.

Since my father effectively cut me off from my inheritance, I really don't have another choice when it comes to a companion. He wants an heir and I wish to fuck my way through the wizarding community. He pretends I'm innocent and I pretend he loves me more than he loves his money.

Pixie believes it's her mission to keep me in jewels and conservative clothing. I don't mind the jewels, not one bit but the conservative clothing is simply yet another way to keep a tight leash on me. As much as I detest altering clothes with magic, when it comes to the wardrobe Pixie demands, it's more than necessary. I don't see us lasting much longer quite honestly and it doesn't bother me a bit.

I managed to snatch the parchment from the bedside table while Pixie was lamenting her very existence. I was in the midst of searching for my wand when Pixie got out of bed. She wrapped the sheet around her for the sake of modesty, which I found laughable and frowned at my outfit.

"Do you really think that dress is appropriate?" She was pouting, of course she was pouting.

You'd think she'd be more concerned with the fact there were charges pending against her for aiding her older brother. I'd never met the bloke but I'd heard about him plenty. Apparently he had a penchant for the sadistic and just the thought of it made Pixie dissolve into tears. What didn't these days though? Ugh.

"Pix, you know I'm expected to dress a certain way. Sure, it's a little risqué, but that's part of my charm. Come give me a hug, I've got to go." Pixie was absolutely unwavering in her hatred of bodily fluid.

Like I said, she's a terrible lesbian. She's never allowed me to kiss her and our sexual experiences were limited to toys. It sounds much more fun than it is, trust me. She despised being touched and she refused to touch me as well. I've never even gotten to cop a feel. Trust me, I've asked myself numerous times why I even bother and I suppose I'm more like my father than I wanted to admit.

"If you stay with me," Pixie breathed against my throat while she stood on her tiptoes. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't aroused. "I'll let you touch me." She lightly fingered my cleavage and licked her lips.

Fuck. It figures now is the time she desires to be lewd and lascivious according to her standards. I couldn't help but fist the sheet in my hand and tear it from her. I shoved her backward until her knees struck the side of the bed and she fell onto her back with a throaty laugh. I tucked the parchment in my cleavage and wrenched open her legs. I'd never even been allowed a proper look at her girly bits and I wasn't about to pass on it now. I dropped to my knees and I could hear the protest in the back of her throat but I didn't give her a chance to close her legs or push me away. I shoved my face between her thighs so fast she gasped and clenched my head. I gripped her thighs and dragged her closer, inhaling her scent.

I was vaguely aware of Pixie grumbling but her knees were pressed so tightly against my ears it was easy to ignore her and I flicked my tongue right up her slit. She screamed and I felt my knickers dampen. I held her abdomen with one hand so she couldn't scurry away from me and sunk my tongue into her with a quick thrust. Pixie was writhing and I wasn't sure if it was some abject horror or passion and I didn't care. I sucked on her clit until her back arched completely off the bed and her hands were yanking on my hair. I wanted to make her come, I wanted it bad, and while she was complaining her body wasn't. I swirled my tongue and Pixie was gasping in strange stuttered breaths and then she was collapsing against the wrinkled sheets while her legs trembled, finally falling open.

"I hate you." Pixie cried, wiping the tears from her eyes. She rolled onto her stomach, giving me a delectable view of her high round arse.

"You loved it." I whispered and used my wand to freshen my mouth. I didn't think it would be particularly seemly to show up with the taste of another woman on my lips.

"I said touch and you…you…violated me."

"Fuck Pixie, what the hell happened to you? I don't understand. I've been kind. I've been patient. I've been your fucking wet nurse and you still refuse to let me touch you." I did the best I could with my hair and hoped I looked acceptable.

Pixie sat up and crossed her arms over her chest. Her eyes were bright but the tears dripping from them would have been heart breaking if it had been anyone else. I was used to her tears. I was sick of her tears. Fuck, I was sick of her and I knew once I left, I wouldn't be back.

"You want to know what happened to me? I'll fucking tell you. I was raped when I was a teen, more than once over the worst summer of my life. After that I decided I'd never let a man touch me ever again and I can barely stand the touch of a woman either. Are you happy now?"

"Who was it?" My voice was barely above a whisper and I don't know why it mattered to me.

"It was my…my…" I didn't get to hear the rest.

The clock chimed and the parchment activated and I was gone. I was mildly curious more than anything. It explained so many of her issues and while I still wouldn't be back, I felt for her. I simply wasn't the right witch to fix her and I doubted anyone was if her teenage angst was still wrecking havoc with her. I suppose that sounds callous, but it's not like I haven't had my fair share of partners I didn't wish to shag. I did, more than I wished to count but it didn't stop me from living my life on my terms.

I quickly shook Pixie from my mind when I landed in a dark room. The walls were a deep dark red and reminded me of blood. The floor was stone and from the chill in the air, I guessed I was no longer in London. There was a small fire crackling in the fireplace and a single chair near the hearth. It was richly adorned with a dark green fur throw and I couldn't help but caress the rich fabric. I shivered and decided it best to sit upon the chair and cover myself. I wasn't of a mind to investigate my surroundings and quite honestly I was nervous.

I heard the door behind me creak open and I held my breath. I don't know what I was expecting but it certainly wasn't him. In the flicker of the firelight he was glorious. He was quite tall, taller than I expected and his chest was broad and fairly muscular as evidenced by his clinging dress shirt. His waist was trim and he was expensively dressed. His hands were large, and he had absolutely no problem putting them on me.

He pulled my hair off my neck and with a quick twist it was secured on top of my head. He hadn't spoken and so I remained silent. I could feel his gaze as he looked down upon me before I felt his palms on my throat. He spread his fingers, strumming them lightly against my skin. He wasn't being inappropriate but I was still slightly uncomfortable. I hadn't even seen his face, what if he was some sort of disfigured beast?

"Daphne Greengrass." His hot breath ghosted the outer shell of my ear and I shivered from his close proximity. He licked the side of my throat and bit my earlobe, which had me swallowing hard.

"You have me at a disadvantage, sir." My voice was husky and it must have pleased him because he chuckled in my ear and kissed my cheek.

"Do I? How delightful." His breaths became heavy and when I twisted my head to look at him, he clenched my jaw in one of his hands. He forced my face back toward the fire and clucked his tongue at me. "Now, now I've heard you're very complacent, let's not do anything to alter my opinion of you. I've heard much about you. It was all quite…titillating." He forced me to lean forward and I heard the zipper of my dress descending rather than felt it.

"What do you want me to do?" He wasn't very forth coming and while our encounter was quite arousing, there had to be a reason behind the madness. I needed answers desperately before this went any further.

"Aren't you an inquisitive little mouse?" I started shaking then, expecting some sort of violence but he chuckled against the back of my neck, his lips gently nibbling my skin. "I don't mind, don't worry my pet. Do you take direction well?" His voice was soothing, hypnotic almost and I couldn't help but to nod slowly.

He was practically purring at my affirmation and I felt as though I were in a trance. I allowed him to ease me from the chair and even drop the throw to the floor. I was so very cold but all the strength had left my limbs. I wondered what sort of sorcery he was working on me as my eyes drooped.

When my eyes opened everything around me was dark as pitch. I tried to raise my hand to wave it in front of my eyes, but they were contained in my lap. I was aware of hard thighs beneath me, and a rippled chest lightly touching my back. There were strong hands clutching my wrists against my thighs and I was scared. I felt something cool and silky being slid over my eyes and whispered words from afar. I thought for a moment I heard a woman's voice but I couldn't be sure.

"I'm going to release your hands. You've been blind folded and I've made sure it will remain with a Sticking Charm. Your wand has been removed from your person and will be held for you until further notice. There's no need for magic here." There was that voice again, cool, silken and seductive.

He did exactly as he said and released my hands. A moment later, he was standing me on my shaking limbs, keeping his touches light but seductive all at the same time. A quick nip on my collarbone, a warm tongue on my earlobe, the brush of a palm across my breasts and over my bum. I couldn't help but to catch my breath.

"I only want you to speak when spoken too. Do you think you can do that?" I nodded slowly but it wasn't good enough for him. I felt a hard sting of something belt like across my bum and lurched.

"Yes." He struck again and while it wasn't necessarily painful, it was unpleasant.

"Yes what, my pet?" He grabbed me around the waist and I fell into him, feeling his hard body against mine. He was taller than me, even in my ridiculously high heels. He attacked my neck, his fingers digging into my hips and was slowly grinding against me.

"Yes, sir." He was different and I quite liked it. I didn't understand why he was willing to pay such an absorbent fee to spend a few hours with me, but I wasn't about to complain.

"Good girl," He crooned while massaging my backside. "You're going to do everything I ask, without question or I shall be forced to punish you. Before I introduce you to your playmate for the evening, I do have a few questions for you." Wait, was he saying he was giving me to someone else? I didn't much like that idea, but what the fuck could I do about it without my wand? "Have you been fucked recently?" He slowly lifted the hem of my dress until it was resting at my waist. It seemed he was quite intrigued with my arse.

"No, sir." His mouth was suddenly on my hip and I gasped.

"Good, that's good." He sucked hard and vaguely I wondered if there would be a mark. "You'll remain here for as long as I wish. You will be compensated for your time. Five thousand galleons a day is nothing to laugh at, however, whenever you defy me, I shall deduct galleons." Five thousand galleons a day? Surely he must be joking.

He pulled my dress off over my head and the chill in the air made my nipples immediately harden. It seemed to please him considering I heard him suck his breath through his teeth. He took my hand and opened my palm. I didn't understand his intentions. I didn't understand much of anything. He held my wrist tight and pressed my palm against my own thighs, dragging it higher and higher. He moved behind me and made me touch myself through my sheer knickers. Using my fingers he rubbed small soothing circles across my lips. He rested his chin on my shoulder and dragged my other hand to my breast. His hand was much larger than mine and I felt his fingertips splayed through mine as he squeezed.

"I promised my future wife I wouldn't touch you. I don't believe this is breaking the rules."

"I do have standards. I draw the line at men engaged in relationships." I spat the word in a fury. How dare he!

He slapped my arse so hard I fell to my knees and then there were leather straps against my skin. I didn't cry but I did hiss and attempt to crawl away from him. I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have spoken, but it was too late. He yanked me to my feet by my hair and I bit my lip in order to smother the sound of my pain.

"Tell me the rules Daphne."

"Speak when spoken to. Do everything you wish. Do not speak back." My voice wavered and I hated it. He was massaging my stinging arse again and it felt better than I wanted it too.

"Exactly right, my pet well done. Now, I'm going to lead you to the bath. I wish for you to sit in the further most corner with your legs open. Your playmate will be along shortly and you'll receive further instructions." He took my hand in his, letting one hand linger and stroke my arse. He dipped his fingers between my cheeks and stroked me quickly and I gasped. I wasn't expecting his forwardness and I stumbled. I felt him bend down then and remove my heels, though he managed to pause and inhale against the apex of my legs. "I'm going to fuck you later, don't forget that." He chuckled and I was suddenly in a steam filled room.

He helped me over the ledge and I don't know how he managed it, but he licked me, hard and quick as I stepped into the tub. I did exactly as he said, though it was difficult with the inability to see where I was going, but I assumed he'd stop me if I were doing it wrong. The water was hotter than I would have preferred and it stung my feet but it wasn't very high. I felt for the corner of the tub and began to sink into the water. I bent my legs at the knee and opened them just the way he had commanded.

I was all for a little role-play but this was a little strange for my tastes. My breasts didn't come close to the water and I had a sneaking suspicion it was exactly as he wanted it. I could hear him grunting and groaning, realizing he was no longer in the room. I think the door had been left open but I couldn't see anything anyway. I thought I heard angry words, but I couldn't make them out. I heard a splash, but nothing else until there was a warm, wet body sliding between my legs. I didn't know what I should do, so I sat still and waited.

"This is your playmate. She doesn't speak. She's been given a very special Potion to…enhance the experience for her. She is quite capable of relaying her pleasure so there's no need to fret, pet. I want you to make her cum." What the fuck kind of Potion does that and where can I get some? It seems he just wants me to play with his fiancée. I don't really have a problem with it. I mean, if she didn't want to, she wouldn't have gone along with it in the first place, right? Though, I did have a question and decided it was probably best if I just raised my hand.

"Ohh, would my sexy little pet like some Potion as well?" Taylor was incredibly close and I guessed he was sitting on the edge of the large tub.

"Yes, sir. I'd actually love some, however, I have a question." I held my breath waiting for his answer. I listened to the water splash and I could feel him standing in front of me. My playmate had apparently moved because suddenly he was kneeling between my legs. His hands were everywhere and I wasn't expecting that at all. He gripped the back of my hair with such force I winced and then his mouth was covering mine.

My first instinct was to struggle. It was my one real rule, well besides the fact I avoided married men like the plague. I didn't kiss anyone, ever. It seemed he didn't care what I wanted and thrust his tongue into my mouth. His other hand was kneading my arse and then he was lifting me until I was on his cock. I wasn't ready, I wasn't remotely prepared for his incredible size, and I swore I tore. He was thrusting so hard the water was splashing out of the tub as he grunted and moaned in my mouth. It had been so long since a man had fucked me, it was almost divine. I crossed my legs behind his back, dragging him deeper and he growled his approval against my breast. The man was quite obsessed with them really. He paid more attention to my breasts than he did to my cunt. I would have been offended if it didn't feel so fucking good. I swore I could cum just from the way he twisted and sucked my nipples but his cock took care of that. I shouted, nearly crying as I came and he was gone. He didn't cum, I know he didn't but then I heard a woman moaning. Apparently he wanted to finish in her, which didn't bother me in the least.

"You're not very tight. I've a spell for that. You'll appreciate it, trust me." He called to me from across the tub and if my cheeks weren't already flushed, that certainly changed. "Don't be embarrassed pet, not many women are as tight as my fiancée. Now, assume your position and make her cum however you like. Afterwards I'll take you both to the bedroom and fuck you senseless. It'll be delightful. If you're a good little pet, I'll give you a bit of Potion and allow you to choose whom you would rather pleasure you."

The warm wet body was between my legs again and I didn't hesitate this time. Her shoulders were smooth and not particularly wide which was pleasant. I'd always detested broad shoulders on any woman, especially if I was planning on fucking her. She dropped her hands to my knees and I scooted closer to her back. I wanted her to feel my tits and the warmth of my pussy.

It was strange not having the gift of sight and I hoped she wasn't a vile looking witch. Her breasts weren't as large as mine but they were impressive. She twitched with a breathy little gasp. It seemed the minx liked it. When I slipped my hand between her thighs she stiffened until I started stroking her. Her legs fell open and she was pushing her breast into my hand until I twisted her nipple and suckled her neck while working her from the interior. He was right. She really was quite tight. I could barely squeeze three fingers into her, but apparently the friction worked for her. It didn't take long for her to be practically writhing; her whimpers steadily rising into a cacophony of moans.

"You are superb. Come along then. It's time for your reward." He lifted me from the tub with ease and I could feel his eyes boring into me.

He didn't walk far and he laid me upon a large bed. He stretched my hands over my head and spread my legs wide. I didn't mind being on display. It made me feel quite sexy. I felt the bed dip and wondered whether he had joined me or if it was his counterpart.

"What would you like my pet?" His breath against my pussy was excruciating. "Would you like her to lick you or me to fuck you?"

* * *

(Hermione)

* * *

I don't know how many days have passed, but I know they have passed. My favourite place is the window seat. As strange as it is, I'm glad Bill and Fleur gave us this room. I don't know what I would have done if I didn't have this small bright spot in my day.

It was hard to be around them, any of them, even Draco. I knew I was hurting him, but my pain ran rivulets through my veins and I wasn't of a mind to even attempt to make it stop. I allowed him to slip into bed beside me each evening and hold me tight while I pretended to sleep. He snuck away each morning, returning with a breakfast tray and I feigned innocence.

I knew I needed to snap myself out of this stupor, but it was harder than I ever thought possible. The days melted into weeks and probably months, but I couldn't be sure. I couldn't be sure of anything, until today. I had the most wonderful dreams and I wanted them to become reality. I wanted to marry a man I loved and have a houseful of children. I wanted to read books in the garden and have strong arms protect me.

It was strange admitting that to myself. I used to be strong. I used to be brilliant. I used to be a lot of things that I wasn't anymore. It didn't bother me. People change and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. I've made mistakes just as much as anyone else has, it was just a matter of admitting it. I knew I would be judged for turning from the title of 'brightest witch of the age', but who cared really? I certainly didn't. There's more to life than being the best, brightest, and most studious.

I think that's why I love Draco as much as I do. He couldn't give a rat's arse about any of it. He doesn't love me because of my exceptionally large, if underutilized brain. He loves me because I understand his pain just as he understands mine. I've spent so much time wallowing in my own pain, I'd forgotten his. How bloody selfish could I be?

I watched him slip into what had quickly become 'our' room and he was surprised to see me in the window seat. Draco looked horrid, how did I miss it? His hair needed a good washing and probably a trim. The dark circles under his eyes had become purplish bruises and his tall frame was folded in on itself; almost as if he were trying to make himself disappear. Merlin, I'm so bloody selfish. Draco moved as if he was going to retreat, but I couldn't allow him to leave me the way I'd left him.

"Please, stay with me." I gazed out the window, wondering when the days had grown shorter. Exactly how much time had I wasted in this very room?

"Are you…sure?" Gods, what had I done to him?

"How long have we…been here?" My throat was scratchy from disuse and it wasn't anyone's fault but my own.

I listened to Draco's soft footfalls and felt his warmth behind me. I wanted him to touch me, to hold me, but I had spurned all of his advances, so of course he was hesitant.

My hand grazed his and Draco started, unaccustomed to my touch and I felt a horrid pang of guilt. I might have been broken, but I had never been cruel. I suppose tragedy changes people in ways they don't wish and I had fallen victim as I suppose others hand before me.

"A few months, though it feels much shorter than that. Carina is adjusting well. It seems strange to say that, but she's quite taken with Fleur and my mother of all people. She misses you. I mean, I know you see her, but it's not the same if you never leave this room and I…"

"I'm sorry." The words felt foreign on my tongue, but I knew they needed to be said. There were so many things I needed to say, but I didn't know where to begin.

I felt Draco move slightly, his chest barely brushing my back before his hand came down onto my shoulder. I leaned back into him and he sighed. I wasn't sure whether it was a sigh of relief or longing, but it didn't matter because he was there. Despite everything I'd done and hadn't done, he'd never left me. He kept vigil by my side and loved me anyway. I couldn't ask for more than that.

"It's all ri…"

"Don't say it's all right, Malfoy. It isn't all right, none of this is. I've been a terrible mother for Godric only knows how long and I haven't even taken into account how anyone else bloody feels. I've been selfish and wallowing in self-pity. I bet if I put my mind to it, I could even aid in the search for Johns and…" He cut me off. Draco was always good at cutting me off but this was different.

It wasn't with words, growls or sighs. It was with lips and I had missed them. I had forgotten how soft they were, how perfect they felt against mine. It seems I had forgotten almost everything good in my life. I couldn't help but melt into him. The stiffness in his limbs seemed to ebb the longer I stayed in his arms. I clutched desperately at his soft t-shirt, wondering when he'd stopped wearing crisp button downs.

I had forgotten the way he tasted, the way he felt, and I needed more. It was easy to stand, even with his hands on my shoulders and I wrapped my arms around his neck and instinctively his arms slowly enveloped me. I couldn't help but to sigh in relief. I heard myself whimper when his teeth caught my lip and his hands slipped down to the curve of my bum.

"Granger, you've got to let me breathe." Draco chuckled lightly and I realised I missed the sound. I almost crumpled right then, but he held me up. It seemed he was always there to catch me when I fell and I'd been a fool.

* * *

(Draco)

* * *

I wasn't one to question a good thing when it fell into my arms, literally, but at the same time, I wondered what had caused such a giant turn around. I had often wondered if Hermione was ever going to find her way back to the surface and it seemed she was trying. She had always been a fighter and I had to admit I didn't enjoy seeing her fall into the deep recesses of depression, but I understood it.

She was so soft in my arms, I had almost forgotten. It was one thing to hold her while she slept, but to feel her lips on mine, her body molded to mine, well that was the thing dreams were made from. I vaguely wondered if I'd ever made love to her in an actual bed, but it wasn't the time. She was bloody well sucking the life from me and I really needed to breathe.

"Granger, you've got to let me breathe." I laughed, but only due to the adorable pout on her swollen lips. While the fire wasn't back in her eyes, there was a bit of light, the barest hint of awareness and that was good enough for me.

Hermione was impatiently yanking on my shirt. It was a quiet sort of desperation and I didn't mind. I'd be a fool to mind, but I needed to speak to her. There were things I needed to say. Of course, she was shoving me across the room, a glint of determination in her dark eyes and I was helpless. It was easy to allow myself to tumble into the bed and to feel her soft body on top of mine. I had missed her more than I thought possible.

"I missed you. I missed me. I've missed so much. I don't want to miss anymore." I could feel her salty tears against my cheek, dripping across my lips and I had to stop her.

"Granger," I caught her hands in mine and rolled us over. I'd allowed her have a bit of control because it seemed as if she needed it, but I needed something as well. "I need you to listen. Can you do that for me?"

Her eyes were closed and her nose was scrunched, in that familiar stubborn set, until finally she blinked and looked up at me. She took a long, slow breath and slowly nodded her head. Her curls were spread beneath her, almost like a halo and fuck she's bloody beautiful. I released her hands and lay beside her, gently touching her wet cheek.

"You don't want me anymore…" Hermione sighed with more dejection than I'd ever heard come from her and it just about broke my heart.

"Don't be stupid, that's not it at all. We've been at Shell Cottage for almost three months. Even my father hasn't been able to track down Johns and it seems Daphne Greengrass has gone missing as well. The Ministry has agreed to nullify your marriage to Johns. Don't argue with me, it doesn't matter that it happened to be a Muggle union, in the eyes of the Wizarding Community it never happened. Ginny has been handling the Muggle side of the entire affair. She's gotten quite adept when it comes to signing your name, which would be slightly terrifying if she weren't your friend. I've uhm, well, I've claimed Carina as my own. Went through all the proper channels and everything. My father encouraged me to do it, if you can imagine that. Carina's quite taken with him and he with her. I'd like you to see them together." I knew I was rambling, but I couldn't make the words stop spilling forth. It had been so long since I'd be able to actually speak to her, it was exhilarating.

"Malfoy, you're talking too much and it's hurting my head. I'd rather be doing other things. I've missed those things." Hermione turned slightly and fingered the bottom of my shirt before placing her palm over my navel. She raked her nails across my ribs and I sucked the air through my teeth. "See, you've missed it too."

"Well, I'm not going to bloody lie to you…" Hermione sat up and straddled my lap. She moved faster than I expected and fuck if all thoughts didn't vanish from my head on the spot.

She nipped my earlobes and dug her fingertips into my skin as if she'd never felt them before. She kissed me hungrily and I wasn't going to simply sit there as if I were a ponce. Of course, I kissed her back. Of course, I scrunched up her nightgown around her waist and felt the weight of her breasts in my hands with the barest hint of a tremble to my hands. It was easy to tease pink peaks and listen to the soft little kitten purrs lodged in the back of her throat, but I pulled away just the same.

I held her face in my hands, studying the light in her caramel eyes. I glanced over her plump lips and listened carefully to the depth of her breaths. I'd never loved any woman as much as I loved this one and I'd lived long enough without her. I couldn't bear it for another moment.

"Marry me."


	14. Daphne

**AN: Alright, so it's been forever and a day since I've updated this particular fic...and no this chapter isn't as long as some of the others, but I believed it was a fitting place to end it. **

**As I currently believe the emotionally draining aspects of this story are over (after this chapter), and I have a general idea where things are going, I expect to update more frequently, but don't quote me on it ;)**

**As always - thanx for reading *kisses***

* * *

Chapter 14 - Daphne

* * *

I woke sore and bleeding, as it seemed to be the common occurrence these days and groaned. I didn't groan too loudly, no, that would have brought attention to me and I needed a moment to breathe. I opened my eyes, but there wasn't a point in attempting to suss out my surroundings. Johns had kept the bedchamber eerily dark and I imagined a quick burst of sunlight would blind me.

It had taken me more than a few days to discover his intended wife was Pansy. It sickened me more than a little, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. I was trapped in much the same way as she. She didn't speak much if at all. I suppose the dire circumstances had completely stripped her of anything resembling the witch I once knew.

I had lost all semblance of time and while I was always a bit of a spoiled witch, no amount of galleons was worth all this. I longed for the safety of my own bed. I missed the warmth of the sun. I even missed my father and would have married anyone he wished at this point.

I had become Taylor Johns favourite plaything. Of course, he refused to answer to Johns now that he embraced the identity of his real father. No, now he demanded we refer to him as Riddle. It sickened me more than a little, but the punishments for forgetting were worse than anything I'd ever experienced.

I wanted to climb out of bed, but I couldn't. I was trapped between the wall and the hard body behind me. Taylor knew I would bolt if given the opportunity, therefore he never provided an opportunity. It was the only time I ever envied Pansy. She was fast asleep in her own chambers, free from her betrothed predilections.

He tied me to him, quite literally and my wrists were raw and bleeding once more. I tugged against my bindings as I did every time I awoke, but it was fruitless. It seemed everything was fruitless. For the first time in my life, I wished I were dead.

"Taylor, darling I have the most wonderful news!" Pariesna was fluttering about the chilly room. I couldn't see her, but I could hear draperies being opened while she hummed under her breath.

Taylor groaned, immediately reaching toward me to stroke whatever bit of skin he could reach. Today it was my bum and I refused to flinch as his meaty fingers dug into my skin. He hadn't fucked me since my first night in what I could only assume was a castle. He'd toyed with me, and forced me to sleep beside him, but he hadn't fucked me. He spent most evenings with Pansy and I had very little contact with her really. I wondered why he bothered to keep me when he had her, but I knew better than to ask.

"Mother, you've interrupted me. I do detest when you wake me before I wish." Taylor grumbled and with a hard slap on my arse, he left the confines of the four-poster.

"Taylor, today is monumental. You've done it. You've actually done it. Of course, you shan't touch her now. She needs proper care and I've delegated my loyal house elves to the task. I'm currently arranging your transport out of the country. It would be absolutely impossible for you to marry her here amidst the current troubles. We can't have the Riddle heir born a bastard, not again." I'd never seen Pariesna this…happy. It was terrifying, but it didn't seem to bother Taylor in the least. It took a moment for her words to sink in and I gasped.

"Pansy's pregnant? I've done it? I've finally done it?" Taylor shouted before lifting his mother and spinning her round.

"You've done well, my son. However, we do need a few ground rules. I don't expect you to be pleased, but they're necessary if we wish an heir. Don't scowl at me dear, you and I know your penchant for violence. I expected nothing less, considering you _are_ the only son of the most feared wizard ever to exist. Merlin knows, Tom had a bit of a temper. Pansy is understandably overcome with emotion and I do not want you to toy with her. Leave her be. She needs rest and proper nutrition. You have a plaything, by all means utilise her as it seems she'll be your companion for much longer than anticipated." Pariesna didn't curl her lip at me, in fact she almost smiled, which frightened me.

I drew up the cold sheet and covered my nudity. The candles were flickering, providing a glow of light I appreciated. I knew I looked an absolute mess, but it didn't stop Taylor's mother from crossing the room and perching on the edge of the bed. She stroked my tangled hair and patted my cheek, almost lovingly.

"You really are quite a pretty witch. Pureblood beauties are so few and far between these days. You put Pansy to shame." Pariesna glanced over at her son and some sort of silent conversation took place, because Taylor was suddenly leering at me. "If things don't happen to go according to plan, you would make the perfect replacement."

"Her tits are better than Pansy's, but she's not particularly tight. I only did her that once, I swear it. You told me to concentrate on Pans and I have." It amused me to see Taylor retreat from his mother's ire, but I wasn't surprised. Pariesna was one bloody powerful witch. She worshipped Tom Riddle and perhaps he taught her bits of sinister magic. I didn't know and I didn't wish to know. I was sorry I had ever answered Taylor's owl, but it was too late for such laments.

Pariesna tore the sheet down and inspected every exposed inch of my flesh. She clucked her tongue, lightly touching every yellowed bruise decorating my chest. She forced me to stand and spent an uncomfortably long time inspecting the languishing bruises and bite marks on my thighs. I pretended she hadn't fingered me beyond the periphery of Taylor's vision and stared at the opposite stonewall.

"You're quite correct, Taylor. She isn't particularly tight, but you've also abused her. I've tried to teach you the value of caring for your belongings, yet it seems you've adamantly refused to adhere to my wishes. Do you wish me to return her? I'm sure there are a plethora of eager wizards who would be deliriously happy to have this witch warm their bed."

"Mother! She's mine! I'm bloody paying her and if I've got to pay for her, I should be allowed to do what I wish!" Taylor thrust his hard muscled legs into a pair of lounge pants while glowering at his mother.

"Taylor, that would make the poor witch nothing more than a prostitute." Pariesna turned to me and I could see the ominous shine in her eyes. "You don't wish to be a prostitute, do you Daphne?"

"No." I knew that was the answer she was searching and I wasn't about to revolt against her. I missed my wand desperately, but even though I had my doubts, I still wished to live.

"Lovely, it's all settled then. I'll simply deposit a generous portion of galleons into your father's account, as a dowry, one could say. The poor man must be compensated for the loss of his eldest daughter. Come along my dear, it seems I'm forced to work a bit of magic to get you into working order." Pariesna clutched my hand, a warning in her eyes and dragged me from the bedchamber.

She thrust me into an elegant bathing room, waving her wand to light the sconces decorating the tiled walls. She ignored my unease and set about turning the taps until the room was thick with steam. I stepped into a bath the size of a small bathing pool and flinched against the burn upon my skin.

I expected to be left to my own devices, but I was mistaken. Pariesna lathered my hair, scrubbing my scalp with her fingernails before pouring cool water over my head. She scrubbed my skin until it practically shone from her ministrations. I thought she spent entirely too much time lathering my breasts, but my opinion didn't matter. It was distressing to hear her murmurs of appreciation, but I closed my eyes. Everything was easier with my eyes closed.

Pariesna amused herself by pulling on my nipples, massaging some sweet smell sort of concoction over my bruises. She lathered her hands and vigorously washed between my legs, muttering an insincere apology when two fingers slipped inside me.

"No wonder Pixie was obsessed with you." Pariesna laughed lightly while rinsing me thoroughly. "You remind me of myself at your age. So eager to please, calm and utterly complacent to Tom's desires. I wanted more for Taylor than Pansy. I do believe you fit the criteria. Pixie wasn't the least bit acceptable. One would think she was being murdered rather than groomed. I suppose it's why she decided to devote her life to women." Pariesna shrugged and toweled me dry rather rigorously before she admired her handiwork. "We've really got to do something about your pudenda my dear girl. Do you even remember losing your virginity? Well, no matter, a simple spell and you'll be exactly what my son deserves." Pariesna muttered a few healing spells and the bite marks disappeared.

I lifted my arms when directed and was soon dressed in a gorgeous gown. It accentuated my breasts and the curve of my bum, yet kissed the floor. Even I had to admit the burgundy colour gave my skin a gentle sort of flush. I felt pretty for the first time, in what I could only assume was months. I swallowed hard when Pariesna pointed her wand at me and waited for some horrid curse, which never came.

"Castificus. Impollutus. Castitudo iterum." (chaste, unblemished, chastity/virginity again) I gasped and my entire body was warm. It was difficult to draw a full breath and then it was over. I sighed, and Pariesna smiled, quite pleased with herself.

"What did you do?" I couldn't remember the last time I had spoken without permission, but it seemed the situation warranted such a brazen action.

"My dear Daphne, I've simply reinstituted your virginity. Taylor will give you a whirl later and if it's not to his liking, I've another to tighten up everything. Tom adored it, his creation really, and now you can count yourself among the elite." She patted my still damp dark hair and led me back to the bedchamber.

It had gone through an impressive transformation. The draperies were wide, the windows clean and the sun gently kissed the small table nearby. I took a deep breath and was pleased to discover the stench of bodily fluids and sweat had dissipated. Instead, my senses were assailed with a delightful blend of lemon and fresh baked bread.

"You are a guest, my dear. As a guest, you deserve certain concessions. This is your bedchamber. Every morning a house elf will provide you with a hot nutritious breakfast. The afternoon meal you shall take with Taylor. I shall not see you for some time as I will be primarily tending to Pansy's needs. Taylor knows better than to abuse you again. Ask of him whatever you wish." Pariesna smiled and left the room without a backward glance.

I crept toward the small wooden table slowly, and almost smiled. The selections were lovely and it wasn't but a moment before I was heaping bits of the full English breakfast onto my plate. It didn't take long for me to find my fill. I hadn't had a full true meal since I'd arrived, though Taylor was quick to shove bits of cake into my mouth.

I sighed with an actual smile on my full lips and closed my eyes. A hand suddenly toying with my hair, frightened me and I leapt from my seat to see Taylor. His blond hair was damp from an obvious bath and his clothing was freshly pressed and clean. It was strange to see him clothed, but I wasn't about to complain. The harsh lines in his face seemed to fade with the morning sunlight and he looked almost kind. His changed demeanor didn't fool me, yet it was nice to see, if only for a moment.

"Mother says she's fixed you up good."

"Tell me about Pixie." I'd never demanded anything of him before. I had always simply done what he bade without batting an eye, but I was bloody curious.

"Show me your tits." Taylor approached me slowly than he previously had, but I still moved away from him. I quickly realised there was nowhere else for me to go, when I lightly bounced off the stone.

"Tell me what you did to Pixie." Taylor growled and pressed me into the wall.

He slowly yanked down the cap sleeves of my gown, exposing the tops of my breasts. He continued pulling the dress down until my breasts were completely exposed and my nipples puckered in the cool air. I expected to be ravished against the wall, but it didn't change the fact I wanted answers.

Taylor dragged me over to the four-poster and pushed me. My bare feet slipped on the stone floor and I landed on my stomach. Carefully, he rolled me onto my back and propped me up on an abundance of pillows. The bustier Pariesna had forced me into was digging into my side, but it seemed Taylor was appeased. He forced me to recline and laid beside me, his hands constantly caressing my breasts.

"I'm going to tell you and then I'm going to fuck you." Taylor whispered against my jaw, rolling a blush puckered peak between his large fingers. It wasn't exactly what I had in mind, but I was desperate to know.

_Pixie Parkinson ran laughing through her family's estate home as her faux brother chased her about. She knew they were entirely too old for such games, but they were utterly too much fun for her to stop. Pixie had been lonely since Pansy had gone back to school. She wished to go as well, but her mother wouldn't hear of it._

_She amused herself by frolicking about in the garden after her hours of tutoring were over. The first time she had even met Taylor had been the summer before. She had stumbled upon Taylor fresh from the shower, but she hadn't known he was anything remotely resembling brother. It was the summer Pansy had been less than cordial and spent most of her days confined to her room._

"_Got you!" Pixie squealed as she was lifted into his arms and tossed over Taylor's shoulder. _

_She kicked her feet, still laughing even as his hand clamped down on her bum._ _She bounced on his hard shoulder while he ran through the corridors, but it didn't bother her at all. She was used to her brother's affections. Pixie didn't know why he was sent away, but she never thought to ask._

_Taylor carried her into the back garden, running down the hill until they were far from the sight of their home. He placed Pixie on her feet, making sure both hands were filled with her bum before releasing her. He leered at her, but Pixie had that gentle sort of naiveté, which came with spending most of her life sheltered from her peers._

"_Fine, you bloody win." Pixie laughed again and sat in the damp grasses against the nearest tree. She glanced over her shoulder, squinting at her family's estate home in the distance. "Bloody hell you ran far. What do you want then?" Taylor sat beside her, stretching his legs before casually tossing his arm over her shoulders._

"_How much do you know about men?" Taylor's thumb stroked her bare arm, but Pixie thought nothing of it. She had spent many an hour having discussions with Taylor and this was no different._

"_I had that tutor. He was quite handsome, but mother dismissed him." Pixie sighed with longing, remembering the tall dark haired wizard._

"_Why did mum do that?" Taylor dropped his arm, slowly rubbing her back. Pixie drew her legs under her long skirt and leaned forward a bit. Her blouse rode up in the back and Taylor's hand slipped beneath the thin cotton, but she didn't mind._

"_I allowed him to do some things and mum caught us. She shouted for hours about propriety and that was the last I saw of him." Pixie sighed and laid back in the grasses, forcing Taylor to remove his hand._

"_What on earth did you do?"_

"_Nothing really, I mean it's not as if I was shagging him or anything. I just let him…" Pixie blushed and turned her head, suddenly embarrassed by the conversation._

"_Are you really blushing? How delightful. You're really not going to tell me? I'm hurt." Taylor lowered himself to the grass, propping his head on his elbow as he watched Pixie's chest rise and fall with every breath._

"_I can't discuss this with you. I mean sure, we're friends more than anything else, but it's so humiliating." Pixie covered her face and Taylor edged closer until his leg brushed her hip._

"_I can aid you with it really. I'll simply ask you questions and you answer them." Pixie nodded readily, blinking up at him with her large eyes. A lesser man would have felt guilty for manipulating her, but Taylor wasn't that sort of bloke. "Trust me?"_

"_Absolutely." Taylor smiled and slipped his hand beneath her blouse, resting it lightly on her stomach._

"_Did he do this?" Pixie frowned for a moment, unaware this was to be a hands-on sort of exercise and squirmed in the grass as she nodded. _

_Taylor quickly traversed her abdomen to cover her breast. Pixie's eyes widened, but the sincerity in his dark eyes calmed her more than it should. He gently kneaded the covered supple flesh, searching for a raised nub. Taylor maintained eye contact even as Pixie's lips parted. He quickly switched to the other, squeezing gently until Pixie swallowed. _

_He kissed her forehead to distract her and deftly unbuttoned her cotton blouse, allowing the gentle breeze to spread it wide. Taylor wished to dip his head and consume her perky breasts, but he was biding his time._

"_What else did he do?" There was a husky quality to his voice and he hoped Pixie wasn't astute enough to recognise his mounting lust._

"_He uhm…he did w-what you're doing and he uhm…removed my uh…" Taylor nodded slowly and reached behind Pixie's back to unclasp her bra. He barely managed to stifle a groan upon feeling her soft flesh._

"_Is that all you did?" Taylor crooned, releasing her breast to grip her hip. He fisted her skirt, slowly dragging it up her thighs. "Did he go up your skirts? Did he touch you? Did you touch him? You're not being very forth coming Pixie." Taylor pouted and kissed her cheek. He didn't retreat as he normally would, instead dropping his head and nibbling her throat._

"_I don't…I mean…what's the point of this?" Pixie shook her head, suddenly wishing nothing more than to be back inside her chambers. _

"_Curiosity." Taylor's tongue flicked her raised pebble and Pixie gasped. "Did he do this then?" Taylor spoke around her breast, while he forced her leg to bend. Pixie gulped, fairly certain something hard was probing her hip, but she was distracted by the wet lips on her breast and the warm fingers inching their way up her thighs._

"_H-he tried to go up my skirts, but I didn't let him. Mother caught me without a blouse and his hands on my breasts. Are you done now…what are you doing?!" Pixie shrieked to feel something warm stroke between her legs._

"_Pixie, don't be so naïve, we've just begun." Taylor removed his hand from her skirts and rolled on top of her, succinctly pinning her to the ground. He nudged her thighs open, pressing his prominent erection into her apex._

"_I don't wish to play any longer." Pixie attempted to struggle, but Taylor was more than twice her size._

"_If you're nice to me, I won't hurt you." Taylor nipped her earlobes, pushing her breasts together while pinching her bruised nipples._

"_You promise?" Taylor smiled, quickly pecking her lips and nodded. "Alright then."_

"_Wonderful. Take off your blouse then." He climbed off her and licked his lips. Pixie nodded slowly and removed her blouse and her opened bra easily. "Stand up and take off your knickers."_

"_My knickers?" Pixie still didn't understand, but she removed them just the same, wondering what the fuss was all about._

"_Good, we're going to go by those delightful bushes and you're going to sit on my face." Pixie retrieved her clothing and dutifully followed Taylor to a thicket of bushes, completely hiding them from prying eyes._

"_This isn't fun anymore, Taylor. I want to go back." Pixie frowned while Taylor removed his polo shirt and lowered his slacks. She averted her face from the tent in his boxers, as she varied her weight between her feet._

"_Come now, do as you're told. I would hate to be forced to inform mum how you bared yourself to me in the gardens." He laid in the grass, pleasantly pleased with the feel beneath his back and grasped Pixie's wrist._

"_I didn't! You touched me and I…" The tears of humiliation dropped from her eyes and she swiped them away with her free hand._

"_I can't be expected to resist the allure of a witch practically throwing herself at me. Mum would blame you. Come and straddle me." He pulled her and Pixie fell to her knees. She raised her right leg and threw it over his waist with a shuddered sob. He thrusted upward and Pixie attempted to scramble away from the intrusion but her hands were captured in his._

"_I don't want to play." Pixie pleaded even as her skirts were lifted, baring her sex._

"_Give it a chance, you'll be begging me to pleasure you." Taylor forced Pixie forward and he panted at the sight of her bare nether regions. "Lower yourself." Pixie complied only because there wasn't a choice in the matter._

_She felt his hot breath on her thighs and wasn't sure what to make of it. Her skirts covered his head and she listened to his lusty inhale before she felt the slick heat of his tongue. Taylor's fingers clamped down on the tops of her thighs, forcing her to remain still. Pixie fell forward, her vision blurring and her breaths suddenly laboured. She'd never felt such sensations before and while part of her felt it was utterly and completely wrong, she couldn't help but to moan. The slow burn was almost than she could take and then the fireworks burst._

"_Oh my gods." Pixie chanted over and over as Taylor dipped into her womanly bits, sampling her wares._

_Before she could catch her breath, Pixie was on her back, her skirts removed and Taylor was forcing himself between her thighs. His eyes were dark with what she suspected was passion. She hadn't the strength to push against his burly chest, nor to stop his mouth from engulfing hers. She felt his hardness probing her opening, teasing her really and then there was nothing but pain. Pixie's screams were swallowed by Taylor's lips, as he defiled her, pushing his way into her. The fiery burn almost consumed her as he forced his way through her barrier, burying himself to the hilt. He moved slowly, savoring the way she gripped him. He quickened his pace, ignoring her cries and her fists beating his back. Taylor's own pleasure was his only concern, until finally he shuddered over her, emptying his seed._

"_You were absolutely lovely. I can't wait until your next lesson." Taylor chuckled before rolling off her._

"_You're absolutely mad. I'm never doing this again and…" Taylor slapped her, hard and unforgiving while he cleaned himself on her knickers._

"_You'll do whatever the fuck I say or you'll regret it."_

I covered my face and sobbed. I cried for Pixie, for Pansy and even for myself. I knew I was never going to leave here alive, and so I mourned for the future I was never going to have.

* * *

Harry Potter groaned and resisted the urge to bash his head against the dark wood desk. He was exhausted to the point of delirium, but none of that mattered with Taylor Johns still on the loose. He hadn't found neither hide nor hair of Taylor, Pariesna, Pansy or even Daphne, and he swore someone was going to be murdered if he had to field another visit from Pixie Parkinson.

Lucius, of course, was a bloody renegade wizard, intent upon utilising his own resources and completely ignoring the directives of the Ministry. Harry didn't blame him, not really, but it was still slightly disconcerting to be fighting alongside Lucius, rather than against him. He still wasn't sure how he felt about the older wizard, but Harry wasn't about to reject the man. He was at his wit's end.

"Potter, your breathing is irritating me."

"Your face irritates me, but you don't hear me complaining." Harry grumbled, his quill slowly scratching across his parchment as he organised his chaotic notes.

"I believe I just did." Lucius glowered at the bane of his existence with barely a trace of animosity, while twirling his wand, and imagining all the different ways he could dismember Taylor Johns.

"Have you heard from Zabini?" Harry huffed, pretending Lucius hadn't spoken. Some days it was easier to pretend he didn't exist as well, but currently he didn't have such a luxury.

"He'll be along shortly. Patience Potter, didn't your mother teach you...oh, pardon my faux pas. Regardless, someone should have taught you the benefits of patience." Harry ignored the thinly veiled jibe and glanced at the clock ticking loudly on the wall.

"Have you anything new to add?"

"I dislike you immensely…"

"I said new Lucius, you've made your distaste for me abundantly clear."

"The Ministry should seriously consider adding Zabini to their ranks." Lucius sniffed, saddened to have run out of tortuous thoughts.

"I've offered him a position, regardless of his affinity for Grey Magic, but he's refused."

At that moment, Blaise Zabini burst into the dark office, clutching a wrinkled piece of parchment to his chest. He thumped a large fist on Harry's desk, silently demanding a drink. Harry had learned the strange nuances of Zabini's behaviour after working closely beside him for months. He opened the bottom drawer of his desk and removed a dwindling bottle of brandy. Blaise didn't wait for a glass, simply popping the top and taking a long draught.

"I've got something." Blaise panted, plopping his large frame into an empty upholstered chair.

Lucius Malfoy scruntinised the Italian wizard carefully, not wishing to bely his emotions on…well anything really. Harry was vaguely aware of the blond wizard shifting in his chair, his wand finally still.

"Come on then! Don't keep us bloody waiting!" Harry shouted, resisting the urge to leap across the desk and strangle the man.

"Touchy, touchy. Can't even let a bloke wet his whistle, so impatient. It seems someone's parents didn't bother to teach him patience is a virtue. Wait, I forgot, Potter didn't have parents. Perhaps he would have had better manners." Blaise smirked, taking another swig from the bottle and Harry gripped his quill so tightly it snapped.

"My sentiments exactly Zabini, though perhaps it would behoove you to share your new tidbit of information before the Boy Who Lived spontaneously combusts."

"So, I was doing a bit of digging and it seems the Greengrass Gringott's accounts have become fatter. It's a significant portion of galleons, otherwise it would have been overlooked. Goblins are gossipy little buggers. Sure, they're hideously ugly and they're ridiculous cheats when it comes to a good gamble, but they love to talk. It seems one of the younger ones, not that you could tell or anything, was charged with crediting the Greengrass accounts. He was completely over the moon to be delegated such a responsibility too. Normally it's the higher ups charged with such things, but he's related to someone that does something and no one cares."

"Fuck Zabini, the point, get there." Harry groaned, utterly and completely frustrated with the rambling.

"Oi, did you piss in Potter's porridge?" Blaise raised his dark eyebrows at his oldest friend's father with a sparkle of mischief in his eyes. "The little Goblin happened to tell me where the funds originated, after I practically depleted my purse at the pub. For a few extra galleons, he let me take the owl as well. I've got the nippy fucker stashed at the Manor. It seems, one Pariesna Parkinson sent Gringott's a transfer of funds in the amount of half a million galleons." Blaise reclined, crossing his feet at the ankles quite pleased with himself.

"Is that it?" Harry scratched his head, quickly trying to piece together the information.

"Is that it? Is that it?! Ungrateful wanker, I'll have you know I spent hours with that crusty little bastard and no, that isn't it. It seems, there was also a note…which I happen to have in my possession." Blaise dangled a bit of parchment just out of Harry's reach and snickered.

"Why must you make me beg?"

"I like it when you beg Potter." Blaise winked and salaciously blew a kiss in Harry's direction, causing Harry to swallow hard and his eyes to widen.

"Enough Mr. Zabini. I do believe you have tortured the boy long enough." Lucius Malfoy might have been stern with the former Slytherin, but the smile dancing on his lips, set Harry on edge.

"It's a dowry. Pariesna has offered the Greengrass family a dowry for Daphne. It seems she's presented them with five thousand galleons a day for each day Daphne has been missing as well as another fifty thousand for their trouble. Her wand was also returned to the family, which shows us she's utterly helpless, but I intercepted that particular owl and nicked her wand. I haven't got a specific location exactly, but it's a general vicinity. It wouldn't surprise me if Pariesna had predominantly intricate wards on their current residence in order to repel Muggles and Ministry officials alike." Harry and Lucius rose to their feet simultaneously with a similar sneer on their lips and a growl in their throats. Blaise was praising the gods that be, for their ire was not directed at him.

"Where. Are. They?" Blaise had never been particularly afraid of Harry Potter.

He'd respected the bloke, but never feared him. He supposed it took a certain talent to be able to end an actual terrifying wizard, but in that moment, Blaise saw a fire in the boy he'd never expected to even exist. Harry's hair stood on end, his cheeks puffing with the exertion of his exhales. Blaise swore the wizard's lightning scar was bloody pulsating, but it could have been a trick of the light. His palms were flat on the desk, his nail beds white with the pressure and Blaise gulped noisily. He had absolutely no doubt Harry Potter could and would end him exactly where he sat, if so inclined.

"Croatia."


	15. Flickers of Healing

**AN: I cannot promise I haven't made errors during this chapter. I cannot promise I haven't missed errors during the editing process. I cannot promise weekly updates of this particular fiction.**

**I can promise...I try. I haven't given up on it. It simply takes longer to formulate the thoughts and separate fact from fiction in order to swirl them together in an intricate weave of intrigue. **

**As always...enjoy *kisses***

* * *

Chapter 15 – Flickers of Healing

* * *

I'd heard the whisperings. I mean let's face it, no one was ever as quiet as they thought they were, especially if they were Weasleys. I didn't mind really, in fact I was quite used to it. I knew they were still wondering when I was going to join into the fray, but for once in my life, I didn't want too. Harry Potter was supposed to be the Saviour, so it was about time he got to it. Frankly, he wasn't nearly as brilliant as he thought he was and I had bigger problems than dealing with his inability to function properly without me.

I know, it sounds callous, but think about it will you? I spent months in a horrific Muggle facility. I fell in love with a man that was just as damaged as I, and he left me. I married a horrendous bastard of a Muggle, but he wasn't a Muggle at all now was he? No, to make matters worse he's the bastard son of Tom Riddle and a Squib as well.

I've made terrible decisions, but even now, I can't force myself to completely regret them. I should, I suppose the others want me to as well, but in my darkest moments, I discovered my strength. Sure, I allowed Taylor Johns to use me as his personal whipping boy, but I didn't beg. I didn't plead. I didn't crumble. I'm still here and that speaks volumes.

Harry faced down Voldemort. In the end, it was something he had to do himself, but he still can't manage to solve a case without me? How bloody ridiculous is that? If I can learn to survive without my nose in a book and come out on the other side, then Harry should be able to do his job.

Ugh, I'm being cruel. Sometimes my thoughts get away from me. I try to keep them in check, but then there are moments when I want nothing more than to blast everyone to bits. Alright well, not my Draco or my daughter, but everyone else? Maybe. I've considered it and once I even had to concentrate in order to keep my wand in my pocket. I've got issues, I freely admit this.

Speaking of my Draco, he wishes to marry me and I don't quite know how I feel about it. For the longest time, it was the only thing I wanted. I thought it was some sort of dream, which would never come true. It was almost impossible to forget him, considering Carina is the spitting image of her father. My heart was shattered and she helped ease the pain, if you can make sense of that. Sometimes, when I'm standing near the lapping ripples of water, I can't help but wonder if Leo would have looked like his father as well.

I don't cry any longer. It still hurts, it will probably always hurt, I don't know. Draco thinks I don't want to marry him. I know my inability to answer has hurt him. He doesn't understand and I don't know how to explain it. The words get lodged in my throat every time he asks me why. I can't tell him I'm afraid. He would crush me to his chest and kiss my temple while telling me he'd never leave me again.

I know he regrets his actions, but I don't hold them against him any longer. We both made poor decisions and now we're forced to live with the ramifications. I'm not afraid he'll leave me again. I'm afraid Harry will never catch Taylor. I'm frightened of that blasted Squib.

He haunts my dreams, my nightmares, my thoughts. I've learned to squelch the screams in the middle of the night. Instead, I wake gasping, desperately clutching the nothingness. His hands are never wrapped around my throat. His palms are never slapping my face. His fists are never punching. His feet are never kicking. It doesn't change the course of the dreams. It doesn't change the underlying fear that Taylor Johns will miraculously come out of hiding in order to exact his revenge.

He wouldn't kill me right away. I know that much. Taylor always did have a flair for the dramatics. He'd want me to suffer more than I've ever suffered. He'd kill my parents and toss their mutilated corpses at me feet, with an easy smile. He'd torture Draco, flay the skin off his bones and just when you'd think he was finished, Taylor would start again. He'd laugh at the remains of his handiwork and then he'd turn to my daughter. It wouldn't be enough that he'd killed my son. The moment Taylor had discovered the child truly wasn't his, the life no longer mattered to him.

"You're thinking about him again." Bollocks. I hadn't heard Draco's approach until he was literally behind me. I hated when he snuck up on me like that. "I wish you'd talk to me about it." His voice, Gods I loved his voice. Those soft, soothing tones, barely above a whisper could soothe the darkest part of my soul.

I knew he was treading carefully where I was concerned and I couldn't blame him. I did have a tendency to lock myself in our room and ward it so well, it would take him hours to breach the wards. It was better than running off and I'm sure he expected that as well.

"I can't help it. I'm having a moment." His hands rubbed my chilled arms and I wanted to drown myself in him.

I suppose he could sense it and I felt him step closer, pulling me against him. I couldn't help the shaky sigh that escaped my chapped lips. He always knew when I needed him. How did he know? I wanted to unlock his secrets, while still clinging to mine and I knew it didn't work that way. It couldn't work that way. Something needed to change and I knew…I knew, it was me.

"Potter thinks he's got a lead. Normally I wouldn't put much stock in it, but my father agrees." He was trying to be nonchalant, but it wasn't working. "I'm going with him." I couldn't have heard him correctly.

He promised. He swore. He'd held me in his arms while I sobbed and solemnly vowed he'd never leave me again and I believed him. Maybe it was my own foolishness, but I loved him so desperately I would willingly believe anything, anything at all, as long as he stayed by my side. I knew I was being ridiculous, I mean here I am, a Gryffindor, terrified with the thought of a Slytherin leaving her behind? Where had my strength gone? Where was my courage? Where was anything that used to define me? Dead. Utterly and completely dead. As dead as my son and that's what stung the most.

"Granger, say something." Draco's arms tightened around my waist, his lips soft just behind my ear.

I closed my eyes, listening to the soothing sounds of water brush against the shore, tickling the tips of my toes. The sun was muddled, half hidden behind the clouds, but I could still feel its warmth on my cheeks. I patted the pale hands loosely resting at my waist and rocked back on my heels.

"I love you. I can't remember a time before loving you." I let him slowly turn me around, my chin in his palm. I could feel his probing grey eyes staring down at me, but if I looked up at him, I'd never say what I needed to say. "When I close my eyes and you're not there, I see Taylor. He's laughing, always laughing, towering over me, saying vile things. I shouldn't have given up on you, on myself. I think maybe if I had just…waited or…or struggled through, I would have been alright. I'd still have Carina and then…"

"Granger, stop it. You've got to stop blaming yourself. If I blamed you, as ludicrous as that sounds, pretend with me. If I blamed you, I wouldn't be here, love. I wouldn't wrap myself around you while we sleep. I wouldn't kiss the furrow from your brow. I definitely wouldn't have asked you to share the rest of your life with me either." For a moment it felt as if I were falling, but no, it was Draco pulling me to him, while he sat upon the sparse grasses.

"I know you want an answer and you've been patient, so very patient." I sighed, struggling with the dark truths, raising the gooseflesh on my arms.

"I haven't pressed you now, have I? I've let you ruminate and do your bit of overthinking. You're scared and you're terrified to admit it. It's almost as if it were a slap in the face of magic if Hermione Granger, esteemed Gryffindor were to admit she was fucking terrified. No love, don't interrupt. I know you. I see you wandering around, gnawing your lip until it's raw. I'm there when you wake in the night, muffling the sound of your screams. Sure, Taylor Johns is a Squib, that doesn't mean he didn't intimidate you. He killed our son and no matter how many children we have, nothing will ever change that. He took your dignity, he shattered your pride and he nearly took your life, but I'll tell you this…Hermione. Taylor Johns will not take me." Draco forced his mouth across mine and I couldn't resist him.

I didn't want to resist him. We weren't terribly far from Shell Cottage, but Bill and Fleur had never ventured outside during my moments. Today, I didn't care if they did. I needed him, in a primal sort of way. I needed to taste the salt of his skin, feel my fingernails glide across his back. I needed my lips to plump and swell from the voracious nature of his demanding kisses. I needed it all…before he was gone.

* * *

Harry Potter grumbled in the midst of Malfoy Manor, wishing he were safely ensconced in his office within the Ministry. He detested Lucius Malfoy and not because he was a bigoted wizard, no, Harry's hatred went much deeper than that. He hated the way the bastard doted on Carina and the way she lit up when he smiled at her. Lucius Malfoy fucking smiled at his half-blood granddaughter as if it were an everyday occurrence!

"Potter, you've really got to work on your temper. Did you know you mumble under your breath? It's not nearly as quiet as you think it is either. Who bloody well cares if Lucius actually loves Carina? One would think you'd be over the moon, considering he's not threatening to hex her to death for her dirty blood. Oh wait, I get it. Poor little Harry Potter has to share his Gryffindor Princess with the Malfoys and it hurts your delicate little scarred pride. You can't go and hate your mate's family now can you?" Blaise Zabini chuckled, ruffling the head of a passing toddler.

"Shut up Zabini. It was easier before, now everything is all bloody complicated, and I don't much like change, alright?" Harry shrugged, knowing his answer was weak at best. He wasn't about to admit the hulking wizard was correct in his assumptions.

"Oi James, c'mere." Blaise waved over the rambunctious child, quite deciding James was his favourite Potter spawn. "You daddy here doesn't like Lucius, what do you think of that?" James frowned heavily, his dark hair flopping into his eye.

"Daddy no like Papa Lu? Why?" Harry's green eyes widened as his first-born son referred to Lucius Malfoy as his bloody Grandfather.

"Papa Lu wasn't very nice to your dad when we were all small." Blaise kept a careful eye on Harry, pleased to see a tic in the poor bloke's cheek.

"So? He nice now. He plays wiff me and Cari and sometime Al too but Al always makes yucky on Papa Lu and he not like it." James shrugged, glancing at his father as though the man was a bit of an imbecile.

"James! James Potter!" Lucius Malfoy's bellow echoed down the corridor and Harry watched in amazement as his precocious child winced, his eyes instantly seeking a place to hide. "There you are! What have I told you? Go on then, repeat it back to me?" Lucius crossed his long arms, tapping his black shoes against the hardwood.

"No running. No hiding. If I go potty I hafta tell you or Nana or Mummy or some elf." James stared at the ground, sighing with the dramatics of a toddler.

"Very good, now did you do any of those things?"

"No but Bwaise was yellin' and then I just ranned over here cuz Al made a yucky on you and Nana said sit and I can't find no elf…"

"Why do I have those rules?" Lucius interrupted the exasperated explanation with the air of a concerned parent and Harry suddenly felt ill.

"Cuz the house is all big and I could gets lost and then I potty in my pants and die from no biscuits." Blaise hid a snicker with a meaty hand and even Lucius had difficulty keeping his lip from curling upward.

"James, you know the rules and you broke them, what happens now?"

"Is not fair! Bwaise yelled at me! I want my biscuit!" James stamped his foot and Harry felt a sense of pride, recognising the angry child as his own.

"Well, if it makes you feel better, Blaise will not be receiving a biscuit after his supper either. He should know better than to shout about my home like common riffraff. Despicable. Come along then, I do believe Nana will be put out if we're late." Lucius held out his hand and James dutifully took it. "Potter, Zabini, do wash your hands before descending for supper."

Harry's mouth opened and closed a few times, but he really didn't have anything to say. It seemed, despite the lingering hatred of his childhood, Lucius Malfoy had accepted his children and treated them with kindness. It was the sort of thing that would have made his scar pound if Voldemort were still living.

"It seems…I'm sort of…related to the….Malfoys now." Harry practically gagged on the words as Blaise Zabini's cackle filled the room.

"Told you. Alright come on then. We've got to wash our hands otherwise Lucius is going to deny us firewhiskey as well as biscuits and I can't bloody have that."

A few hours later, the men retired to the study, while Narcissa and Ginny chatted amicably amidst the weary children. Harry wasn't necessarily pleased to spend his evening at Malfoy Manor, but it wasn't completely horrid. On the upside, at least James had managed to behave and charm a biscuit from Narcissa.

Strangely enough, Harry enjoyed the silences while having dinner with the Malfoys. It wasn't the hustle and bustle of the Burrow, but it was just as enjoyable. He cringed admitted such a thing to himself, but was soon deep in conversation with Blaise and Lucius.

"Have you narrowed it down?" Harry perused the pages of parchment littered with notes and maps, filled with too many red xs and not enough blue circles.

"It's protected Potter. There's some sort of Repellant Charm, I'm certain. You see this bit here?" Blaise leaned over the dark wood desk and pointed toward the upper left corner of the map. Harry realised it was the only part completely unmarred and nodded slowly, understanding. "There's a mountain there, just passed the trees and I swore I spotted stone steps but then I was walking away, completely forgetting my reasonings for being there. It's happened more than a few times and I'm relatively glad I've managed to stuff the memories into the pensieve."

"Obviously it needs to be removed, it's just a matter of gathering a team and the Ministry approving it. You and I both know he detests wading into uncharted waters and heading to Croatia is definitely an area outside of his expertise." Harry casually tossed his quill onto the desk, glaring at the flickering fire dancing in the hearth.

"He'll do it, because of her." Lucius interjected, a lone finger tapping the side of his crystal tumbler in quiet contemplation. "Think of it Potter, Shacklebolt has already had her Muggle marriage dissolved. He was absolutely seething when he was informed of the horrors Ms. Granger was subjected to over the years."

"Alright, then we'll assume Kingsley will give us a go. We haven't the slightest idea how many witches or wizards are in residence. We would need someone capable of tearing down the magical barriers, quietly yet quickly enough that we could avoid detection. Daphne is without her wand and we should assume Pansy is wandless as well. Ramses is bloody useless and…wait, whatever happened to Pixie?"

"She's got a set of Aurors following her about. I'm sure if anything comes of it, they'll contact you. Why is it that I know more of this than you? You're the bloody Auror!" Blaise kicked his feet on the desk without a second thought, half in his cups.

"I want Longbottom…"

"I knew it!" Blaise chortled, quite pleased with himself.

"I assume you're going to petition for that irritating Weasley as well." Lucius frowned, and while his words were callous, they held none of the malice Harry expected.

"Gods no. We've kept him as far from all this as possible. Can you imagine if Ron actually knew everything that's transpired? Besides the fact of wanting to string Draco Malfoy up by his bollocks, he'd be furious with…well, pretty much everyone. No, it's better he stay working at the shop with George, for all our sakes." Harry shuddered, his eyes flickering with visions of a tomato faced Ron Weasley bellowing, as spittle flew from his lips.

"He'll discover the truth eventually."

"Not bloody likely." Harry muttered, ignoring Blaise Zabini's pointed glare.

"Yes, I do believe one Weasley is quite enough. Have you considered how you're going to broach the subject of a mission in Croatia with your volatile wife? My, how I would love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation."

"WHAT?!" Lucius Malfoy smirked over his tumbler, humour dancing in his grey eyes as Ginny Weasley's face flushed a delightful shade of red.

* * *

I love the moments just before dawn. It's not the silences or the birds tweeting their morning song, or anything ridiculous such as that. It's much simpler than that. It's the only time she's not pretending to be someone other than who she is. She's not smiling with her lips, yet with dead eyes. She's not nodding along to some long-winded Potter explanation. She's not conversing with Fleur about tots. No, she's sleeping.

It's the hours after she's already woken, soaked in sweat, panting, checking to see if she'd caused me to wake. I'm always awake, but it's better she doesn't know. She'd feel such immense guilt and she's already got plenty of that. She doesn't let me hold her afterwards, never has. I suppose it's some sort of coping mechanism or some obnoxious remnant of Gryffindor pride, but it doesn't matter.

As she's drifting off to sleep, she reaches for me. She doesn't lay her head on my chest or toss her arms across my midsection. No, it's much simpler than that. It's a petite hand, cold, as always, and she stretches out, placing it just above my hip. She doesn't stroke my skin or do anything more than rest her palm there. Her breathing slows and sometimes she'll sigh so lightly I can't be certain I ever heard her exhale.

It's those mornings my heart swells a little more and I realise, even if she never fully recovers from the horrors of her past, I'll love her anyway. I'll always love her and I regret every moment my stupidity stood in our way.

I wasn't looking forward to telling her my plans. I couldn't imagine a single scenario where she was accepting. I had to go. I couldn't sit idly by and allow others to join the search for Taylor Johns and do nothing. I knew even Hermione couldn't refute my logic. I wasn't leaving her, I was hunting down the dregs of society.

It had taken me weeks to convince Potter and even my father to allow me to accompany them. I knew my father had a personal interest in the demise of Hermione's Squib husband, and I understood it. I barely remembered my sister, hazy memories clouded by the distractions of youth. My rage was fueled not only by the death of my son, but also the downtrodden woman who carried him.

It sounds callous and I fully accept it, but I can create new children with Hermione, if she ever allows me to touch her. I can't…there's no replacement for her. I'd never tell her my thought processes, but at least I can be honest with myself. I couldn't bear to live in a world without her and perhaps it would have been different if Leo had drawn breath. If I had held him in my arms and heard his cries. If I had done anything a father is supposed to do, but I didn't have the opportunity. It was stolen from me. I promised her I would kill Johns and a Malfoy always keeps his word. Always.

"She's down passed the dunes." I hadn't realised I'd wandered to the kitchen, but Bill was always quick to point out her location.

He'd seen me once when I was unable to find her and I reckon he never wished to see such a sight again. I couldn't blame him really. It was a bit pathetic. One would think I'd left behind my days of wallowing in self-pity and blatantly crying in mixed company, but it seemed when it came to her, I wasn't above such things.

"You're thinking about him again." It was easy to sneak up on her when she wasn't paying attention to her surroundings. I knew she hated it, but it wasn't like I was going to start coughing or stomping about like an imbecile in order for her to realise there were other people in the world.

I told her, carefully, without the slightest trace of a stutter and I felt her pulling away from me. I knew she was just trying to protect herself, but it hurt nonetheless. Instead of her curling in on herself, she started talking and I couldn't believe it. She wasn't hiding behind a façade. She was blaming herself, well big bloody surprise there eh? There's only so much of that self-deprecating Gryffindor bollocks a man can take.

I kissed her, hard and unforgiving and she melted. I wasn't expecting that. Quite honestly, I was expecting the rigidity of her limbs and compliant lips rather than accepting. I remembered the night I asked her to marry me. In retrospect, I probably should have waited until after the lovemaking, but I couldn't hold it in any longer. Of course, it killed any amorous activities. I suppose stunned silence will do that. I hadn't tried again. I hadn't asked her again. I had waited, less than patient, but she didn't need to know that.

I think maybe, for the first time in months, she needed me just as much as I needed her. Well, in the carnal sense at least. I knew she needed me, but she'd never fallen to pieces when I visited my parents at the Manor. She'd never even blinked if I wasn't there and it scared me. I knew I wouldn't be alright without her, but I couldn't help but wonder if I was still an integral part of her life. If she could see a future with me, with our children, as my wife, but I refused to press her. Her words helped, more than anything.

My Hermione was afraid of losing me. Strangely enough, it made my heart soar. I needed her. I needed to feel her skin beneath my fingertips. I needed to kiss her until I couldn't breathe, hell until she couldn't breathe.

The grasses were interfering in my ability to rake my fingers through her hair, but I didn't have enough breath to complain. It seemed my little minx was in just as much need as I. Her fingers were pulling, yanking on my shirt and I downright laughed in her mouth.

"Patience, love." I brushed her hands away from the buttons she was practically tearing from the silk and she bloody growled at me.

"Haven't any. Need you." Her voice was breathy and damned if my cock didn't twitch in my slacks.

"Granger, Hermione, I'd rather like to have you in a bed. Definitely something new for us, yeah?" Her arms were around my neck before I could blink and her teeth snared my earlobe. Her cold little hands had given up on my buttons and worked their way beneath the hem.

"Not here. Bill and Fleur…" She panted and I was shamelessly rutting against her in the grasses with her toes in the sand.

"I've a flat." She nodded quickly, smothering my face in kisses and I wasn't about to complain.

I had quite a difficult time working my wand out of my back pocket, but I managed. Hermione wasn't expecting me to Apparate, but I was not going to shag her without a bed, not again.

I was surprised I remembered my flat well enough for us to land directly on the monstrous bed in the master bedroom. I'd never spent a night there, though I was tempted. It hadn't seemed right then, not without her. Fuck nothing was right without her. She'd turned me into a bloody Hufflepuff and I didn't even care.

I waited for her to catch her breath as she'd never enjoyed Apparition, but I was distracted. The sunlight was wafting through the window, kissing her brown curls, highlighting the bits of gold. When she finally looked up at me, it was perfect. She smiled and I hadn't seen her smile in so long, I didn't do more than stare.

She shoved me, but I could see a playful shine in her eyes as I landed on my back. She pressed two fingers to her lips, shushing me before unzipping my slacks. I was more than a little shocked. I had always been the aggressor. She was so innocent in some ways and it was endearing more than frustrating. I supposed she must have gleaned something from her time with Johns, but I didn't like to think about it.

I swallowed hard, holding my breath while she unzipped my slacks. Hermione had never really touched me. I mean, I'd felt her fingernails scrape down my back and her lips on mine, but I thought I'd died and gone to heaven when she grasped my length in her tiny little fist. I watched her for a bit and the wonder on her face would have been amusing under different circumstances.

Her thumb brushed across the head of my cock and I flinched, flexing my hips with a tiny gasp. If I watched her any longer, I was going to lose the tiny vestiges of my control. It was difficult, but I managed to tear my eyes from the light of her face and just feel.

I was uncomfortable giving up control. It wasn't something I was well versed in, but with her, it wasn't excruciating. I concentrated on the feel of her hand slowly gripping and pulling in long strokes. Her other hand rested on my thigh, her fingernails drawing little circles.

I jumped, grunting a bit when her hair grazed my thigh, her hot breath incredibly close to the head of my cock and then I ceased to think. Smooth warm lips, teasing, testing, toying, before engulfing me completely in her hot little mouth. Her tongue swirled, her fist holding tightly near the base and I moaned. I fucking moaned.

Apparently, it spurred her on. She was moving so quickly, it was a frenzy, and I didn't want it to end. I reached down and my fingers tangled in her golden brown curls. I wanted to pull her toward me as much as I wanted to push her away. I could feel my end approaching, and that was definitely not what I had in mind.

I shoved her shoulders weakly at first, until finally I sat up, causing her to stop her ministrations. She frowned, still holding my cock in her hand and it was the sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen, until she bit her lip. I growled and flipped Hermione onto her back. She laughed, removing her clothes in such haste, her knickers landed on my shoulder.

"You little minx." I winked, attacking her throat while shoving my slacks to my ankles. "Where on earth…"

"Fleur." Hermione breathed, her hands grasping my naked arse. She arched her back, the hard pebbles of her breasts scraping against my chest.

I reached between our bodies, stroking her for the barest hint of a moment. I couldn't wait. I had to have her and she was more than ready. The moment we joined together, was the sort of moment one only reads about…spends their entire life attempting to discover the validity of imaginings.

"Marry me, Granger. Fucking marry me." It wasn't the most romantic proposal in the world, but she wasn't the sort of witch who expected flowers, champagne, and me on bended knee. This was us, baring our hearts, fusing our souls and clinging to each other.

"Can I keep my name?" Hermione purred, her fingers scratching my scalp.

"Absolutely not. I want all of you, always, including your name. I'm very selfish." It was heaven thrusting between her thighs, feeling her clench around me and I knew she was close. I cheated a bit, toying with that deliciously swollen bit of flesh and her eyes rolled back in her head.

"Yes, yes, yes." Hermione chanted, her body shuddering as she came undone.

I swore I could feel our magic swirling together, binding us and maybe I had. Perhaps it was just the cracks in our hearts being swiftly mended together until we were one heart, one soul…one vomitously romantic sort of fiction, because let's face it. Hermione Granger turns me into a bleeding heart Hufflepuff and I don't mind in the least.

"Sexual utterances are an absolute answer, Granger. Don't think you can wiggle your way out of this." I flopped onto my side, a smug smile on my face and even though her eyes narrowed, she didn't argue and I knew...I had won.


	16. The Beginning of the End

**AN: Ok so. I didn't edit at all. I barely proofread. I'd apologise, but I won't mean it. I'm so close to the end I can taste it. I figure, one more chapter and then the epilogue.**

**As always...enjoy. *kisses***

* * *

The Beginning of the End

* * *

Pansy Parkinson stumbled in the darkened corridor, her hands carefully protecting the bulge of her stomach while she wandered in the dark. She knew there had to be an exit somewhere and she was determined to find it, even if she was without her wand. The very idea of being forced to carry on with Taylor Johns was enough to drive her quickly toward the precipice of death, but the thought of escape kept her waning hopes alive.

She cringed as a door slammed somewhere behind her and held her breath while waiting for the clip of shoes to discover to whereabouts. Pansy shuddered, sagging against the ice-cold stone when the footsteps faded away into the nothingness. Part of her wished to return to her rooms and seek out Daphne Greengrass, but such thoughts were suicide. She felt incredibly sorry for the witch, but in reality, she was out for herself.

Pansy refused to spend another night amongst Taylor and his incredibly warped mother. It didn't matter how well they had treated her since discovering her condition. She was plagued with nightmares of the many evenings spent beneath Taylor Johns while he crooned his love into her ear and molested her body with his harsh fingers.

She gagged into her shaking palm as she neared the kitchens, pulling her dressing gown tighter across her body. She shivered from the dank cold seeping into her bones and slowly pushed the door open. Pansy glanced at the long wooden table, her eyes probing every dark corner when she spied the back door to the imposing castle. She nearly whooped with glee, but quickly remembered herself.

She hesitated, which was her downfall. Her petite hand was on the door handle as she peeked through the glass to discover the moon was high in the sky. It was the perfect cover of darkness for her escape, but then her thoughts segued to Roger. She couldn't imagine returning to him now, as sullied as she was. She couldn't imagine informing him of the horrid things she'd been made to suffer. She couldn't imagine unveiling the burden of proof resolutely tapping from the inside, no matter how many times she'd tried to end its life. She detested the little life thriving within her almost as much as she detested its father.

Pansy knew it wasn't the child's fault and there were moments when she felt regret for her murderous thoughts, but most times she was entirely too consumed with hatred to allow such Gryffindor feelings into her heart. She twisted the knob, but a large hand pushed it shut. She froze and swallowed hard, even as the burly man pressed her into the door with the power of his chest. She remained silent, hoping she could fool him into believing she simply wished for a spot of fresh air or even that she was plagued with a bout of sleepwalking.

The large calloused hand slid down the door before immediately grasping her swollen breast. Pansy flinched, bracing herself for an onslaught of pain, but surprisingly he was exceedingly gentle. He remained behind her, even as she spun her 'round and forced her to the large wooden table. He grasped her hands and laid them flat on the smooth wood, even as her limbs began to tremble. He kicked her legs apart and parted her dressing gown with an appreciative rumble.

Pansy hadn't been forced to engage in any sexual acts since Pariesna had discovered the pregnancy, for which she was thankful. Of course, she had been forced to listen to Taylor's activities and Daphne's screams, which was only slightly better than being abused herself. She closed her large eyes, dreading his actions when he split her nightgown down the back. It pooled at her wrists, brushing against her heaving breasts while the cool night air kissed her skin.

"My mother says I'm incapable of making love to a woman. I can't say she's right, I was simply never interested in such things. I'm not supposed to touch you now that you're growing my child, but I never could resist you, Pansy. We're set to travel to the vicar come the morn, you'll be my wife then." Taylor licked the back of Pansy's neck, his fingers bruising her hips while he rutted against her.

"Your mother said you're not to touch me." Pansy's voice wavered and her fear mounted when a broken Daphne shuffled into the kitchen.

"Be a good girl and lie on the table, Pans." Taylor patted her bum carefully and pushed her a bit.

Pansy didn't argue, instead turning as slowly as possible and sliding her bum across the table under her as her feet swung. She wanted to look over her shoulder and see how Daphne was faring, but the repercussions from Taylor made her think twice. She tried to cover the remaining shred of her dignity with her tattered nightgown, but he wasn't about to let her get away with such antics.

He leered at her, the way he always did, before dropping his eyes to the gentle mound of her stomach. He prodded her shoulder until Pansy reclined and suddenly Daphne was holding her arms at the elbow, her long dark hair covering both their faces.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Daphne whispered, gripping her former friend tightly.

"Kill me. If you get a chance, just kill me. I can't live with it…" Pansy begged before Taylor was shoving himself inside her, his hands caressing her stomach. "There's a rocky path out the back door, take it if you've the chance. Run, Daphne. You run for all you're worth and never look back." Daphne sniffled as the tears dripped from Pansy's eyes and nodded with understanding.

"I promise."

Daphne knew if the positions were reversed, she'd be asking the same. The very idea of being forced to carry the grandchild of Voldemort was enough for any witch to wish for death. She wished they had been warned of the danger of Squibs. She guessed they weren't all evil and demented, but it seemed there was always a chance and she had fallen into the traps.

Pariesna sneered with disdain upon spying her son shamelessly fucking his pregnant fiancée, with the aid of his toy no less. She wished nothing more than to rid Wizarding Kind of Pansy Parkinson, but the girl did serve her purpose. She bided her time, waiting until Taylor was finished before stalking into the kitchen with her wand drawn.

"You're just as obstinate as your father." Pariesna sighed dramatically, pursing her lips as she slowly walked around the ridiculously large wooden table.

Taylor climbed off his intended, without the slightest trace of shame. He tossed Pansy her tattered nightgown and crossed his arms. He tossed his head, light hair sliding across his forehead and glared at Daphne. She swallowed hard and moved beside him, just as he silently bade. Taylor smiled at his mother, ignoring Pansy for once while she struggled into the remains of her nightwear. He lifted the back of Daphne's short black shirt and dipped his fingers between her legs before licking them clean.

"Leave us, mother. Daphne here tastes delicious and I do believe I'd rather have some dessert." Pansy gagged, drawing attention to herself, just as she was near the backdoor once more.

"Whatever shall I do with your intended my dear son. You are revolting, are you aware? Your father had an insatiable appetite as well. It's a wonder the Wizarding World is not littered with his spawn." Pariesna flicked her wand lazily, pinning Pansy to the wall with barely any effort at all.

"Leave her there, she can watch." Taylor laughed nastily, his eyes set on Daphne. "Might as well set your wand on the mantle. I'll have my Daphne free my wife when I'm through." Taylor tore open Daphne's maroon blouse, feasting his eyes upon her unfettered breasts, attacking them with fervor.

Pariesna dropped her wand on the table, her eyes filled with pity and retreated from the scene. In her heart of hearts, Pariesna had wished nothing more than to see Tom's Dark Magic rise to power once more. She wished to be beside their son as the world cowered at their feet, rather than cast aside as nothing more than a nuisance. She supposed, in the end, her ideals were ludicrous. Harry Potter had stamped out everything she had loved in the world and left her with only a poor imitation of her one true love.

Taylor would never been the formidable wizard his father was, as he was only a Squib. A demented, psychotic Squib no less and Pariesna knew she played a part in his madness. She wondered if her life and his for that matter would have been different, if she hadn't crooned his father's deeds into his ear. She contemplated his actions, his abuses, his murders and realised they truly had no rhyme or reason. Taylor Riddle's anger was of his own making and news of his father's deeds only exacerbated his fury. He wasn't Tom Riddle. He wasn't Voldemort. Taylor was simply the spawn of a great wizard, reduced to nothing more than a furious Muggle who reveled in violating women as he saw fit. If Pariesna had been a stronger witch, she would have ended her only son herself, but alas, the love a mother has for her child cannot be erased by deeds, no matter how evil they are.

Instead, Pariesna sighed, flinching as the sound of rending cloth and muffled screams filled the corridors. She didn't envy Daphne as Taylor's appetite really was quite voracious and she imagined it would be the wee small hours of the morning before the poor witch was allowed a moment of rest. In a moment of weakness, Pariesna rushed to her chambers and quickly penned a missive, tying it to the quivering barn owl's leg before she lost her nerve.

"Forgive me, Tom."

* * *

"You cheated!" I shouted at him, louder than I had intended, but I wasn't wrong. He had cheated. Of course, I was always planning on saying yes, but tricking me into a pact during the midst of a completely mind-blowing orgasm wasn't the least bit fair and he knew it.

"So?" He was so bloody smug I really wanted to beat him about the head, but I didn't. Instead, I squeezed the life out of the pillow, pretending it was a particularly cocky pale blond wizard. "Were you going to refuse? No, I don't think you were. Therefore, you were always going to marry me, it's not really cheating, it's simply me manipulating the situation to get exactly what I want. Come on, Granger, I'm a Malfoy. I always get what I want in the end." He winked at me, the nerve of him!

He sauntered across the room, naked as the day he was born and captured me before I could aim something hard and painful at his head. I didn't like being tricked. I didn't like maintaining control of a situation. I didn't like much of anything these days, but that's neither here or there. Draco Malfoy tricked me and it seems we're now engaged. Bollocks.

"I'm not living at the Manor." I struggled in his embrace, huffing angrily and he laughed. He laughed at me. He was lucky I couldn't reach my wand, let me tell you.

"No one asked you too. This is a perfectly lovely flat. There's plenty of room for all of us, until we have more children of course." He shrugged, completely ignoring my ire and had the audacity to kiss my bare shoulder.

"Just how many children do you think I'll be having, Malfoy?!" He cringed and inside I smiled, knowing my shriek caused an ache in his eardrum. He leaned over and kissed the side of my throat, shoving my hair out of the way and nibbled my earlobe.

"Let's just let nature take its course, love." I didn't hate the sound of that. I also didn't hate his lips dancing across my skin. I didn't hate much of anything where he was concerned, besides the fact he tricked me, but even that, wasn't the worst thing in the world. I had dreamed of being his wife, dreamed of raising our children together and well, it seemed I was going to get my wish.

"I don't want you to kill him." I whispered, surprised as much as he by my words. I had honestly thought I wanted Taylor dead. I had spent many a night viciously eviscerating him, but now, it was different and I couldn't explain why.

I had hated him for such a long time. I had hated myself as well. I had spent many a year berating myself for foolish decisions and well, there's not even a need of discussing my stubbornness. If I hadn't run away, none of this would have ever happened. I should have embraced my courage and confronted Draco Malfoy and his father. I suppose everything would have been different then.

I didn't make Taylor into the pitiful excuse of a man he is and I no longer blame myself for his actions either. I suppose that's progress. I accept my terrible decisions as a bit of a learning experience. Now that I'm safe and Draco is here, I don't need to see Taylor sniffling and begging for his life. I don't need to tower over him, feeling smug and victorious. I don't need anything, but to never see him again for all of my days. I don't expect Draco to understand that and I wouldn't hold it against him if he did kill Taylor. I mean, Taylor did kill Draco's son and there's not an ounce of forgiveness to be given for that.

"I can't promise you." Draco murmured, his words vibrating against my cheek and I nodded. I understood. I would never ask him to make me a promise he couldn't keep. "We should go back. I miss Carina." I smiled at that.

For a short time, I was actually concerned he'd be a shit father. I mean, Lucius and I are sort of…civil, I suppose you could say. We're not incredibly close or anything but, he dotes on Carina more than I thought possible and it's caused me to see a softer side of him. A side I'm sure even Draco didn't know existed in the first place. The anger he exuded upon learning Leo was a Malfoy was terrifying and I wouldn't put it passed him to go headlong into the fray, shouting obscenities and wielding Unforgivables. I couldn't help but to feel a surge of affection for him.

Draco, is an exceptional father and it eases the anxiety which always happens to settle in my stomach when I see them interact. I was so used to Taylor and his anger, my first instinct is to protect Carina from anyone that isn't me. It took a bit of time, but I'm learning to relax and she's flourishing from all the attention.

"We've got to get out of bed for that…" I can feel him smiling, as well as his reluctance and I feel so bloody loved, if I were standing it would knock me straight off my feet.

"Maybe we wait a bit." Draco nips my collarbone and before I know it, I'm flat on my back, staring up at those beautiful silvery orbs.

He keeps his eyes on mine and twirls my nipple between his fingers, wiggling his eyebrows as if it's a contest to see who breaks eye contact first. I'm not about to lose. I'm tired of losing. I reach between our bodies and grasp his length, causing him to gasp, his lashes fluttering, but stubbornly remaining open. Draco, of course, changes tactics and soon his long fingers are between my legs, searching, stroking, toying with me really and I'm grasping his shoulders, biting my lip.

It doesn't take long for him to have me writhing, riding the edge of ecstasy, but he refuses to give it to me. I can see the amusement glinting in those damn eyes and I growl with frustration. My hips move in rhythm with his hand, my back arching as droplets of sweat work their way down my shoulders, pooling in the small of my back. If he would just increase his speed, just the slightest bit, but no, he doesn't. Instead, he grabs his cock and teases me with it, pressing it against me but not in me, where I so desperately want it. Draco knows exactly what he's doing and I'm panting, whining even as my fingernails dig into his back, making him hiss.

"Please." I didn't mean to beg him, but the word is more than begging. It's pleading, its angst and rapture and everything all at once and then he's there. He's finally there, filling me until I can't breathe and I lose.

I close my eyes, throwing my head back as my breasts scrape across his sweaty chest and we're moving. My face is buried in his shoulder, my teeth embedded in his flesh and we're rushing toward the finish line with gasps, pants, moans, and whimpers. Gods, I love him.

Vaguely, I remember the Charm, but I don't care anymore. I _want_ to have his children. I _want_ to be his wife. I know we'll never replace Leo and we will never forget him, but I want to do it right this time. I _want_ to marry the man I love more than I love life. I _want_ to see his face the first time he holds our new child. I _want_ the life I should have had…and then he's whispering.

"Come with me." And I'm coming undone.

Later, as we're dressing with furtive little glances and small smiles, I catch this look on his face I don't recognise. I mean, I know him, I know him well, but this is different. It's almost as if he's struggling internally and I want to ask him. I want to question him. I want to fix him the way he's fixed me, but I don't. I don't want to push. I want him to come to me and he does.

"Granger, Hermione." He's buttoning his plum dress shirt carefully avoiding my eyes and I can't help the pounding of my heart and the worry that springs to the forefront. "If you…what I mean to say…" he sighs, glancing at the ceiling before his eyes pass over me quickly. "If you don't _want_ to marry me…"

"I do." I interrupt him before he can even think of retracting his ridiculously untraditional proposal. "I do. I want to marry you. I want to live in a pale yellow house in the hills, far away from everyone and fill our house with our children. I want to sleep beside you every night until we're old and then, I want to die in your arms, soaking up every last moment of my life with you. I also want to write books and do what your mother does, but most of all, I want to spend the rest of my life with you." I say it all so quickly, I'm not sure he even understood a word I said, but then he's holding me and spinning me so fast, I can't catch my breath.

He Dispparated us while we were spinning, and he was lucky I didn't toss my cookies all over his shoes. He kissed me, kept kissing me, smiling, laughing, and even crying. I'd never seen him so completely out of sorts. Finally, he released me and whooped into the sky, before running toward Shell Cottage.

He emerged not a moment later with a sleepy Carina in his arms, squeezing her tighter than she'd like. She squirmed, frowning heavily and they looked so alike. I hurried toward them, wishing nothing more than to be part of their intimate little moment and Draco was quick to envelop me in his arms. I held onto them, both of them, allowing the power of healing to wash over me, to fill me with peace and love, until Bill stepped into the tall grasses.

His scarred face was solemn and I couldn't be sure if it was from the scars or his mood. Fleur was just behind him, holding Victoire tightly to her chest and suddenly I was afraid. A thousand different scenarios raced through my mind and all of them were bad.

"Gods, I really hate being the one to tell you this." Bill rubbed his empty left palm across his face, carefully holding out a letter.

I wanted to reach for it, but I couldn't. I allowed myself to be distracted by Bill's long red hair blowing in the light breeze. I allowed my eyes to pass over a nervous Fleur before squeezing Draco's hand. I watched him lean forward and carefully remove the folded parchment from Bill's hand. I held my breath, even as he gently passed Carina into my arms. I watched his stormy eyes widen as he raced across the words and then he turned to me.

"It's for you. It's…it's from Pariesna. They're in Croatia and it seems you're the only one capable of breeching the wards." He was angry, I could feel it in the tautness of his limbs, and I didn't blame him.

The plan had always been to leave me behind, as much as I hated it. I understood though, I mean Draco didn't want to worry for me. He wanted to expel his anger on a man who deserved it. However, everything was different now and I was practically humming with the throb of my magic.

I didn't relish the idea of confronting Taylor Johns…Parkinson…Riddle…whatever he called himself these days, but I also knew it was something I needed to do. I needed to look him in the eye. I needed to show him, to show myself that I wasn't afraid of him any longer. I mean, I couldn't say the idea was completely true, but I wanted it to be.

I snatched the parchment from Draco's hands and while the letter was short, I understood it. As strange as it was, Pariesna regretted her actions. I didn't forgive her and I don't believe she expected anyone to forgive her. The information was a small consolation prize, but I would take it. She didn't say she was sorry, but I didn't expect her too.

"Blood Wards. We didn't think of that." I muttered, watching the bit of parchment flutter to the ground.

"Blaise discovered they were in Croatia, but with the Repellant Wards, it was impossible to pinpoint their location." I noticed the way Draco avoided speaking of the Blood Wards and I didn't blame him. He absolutely detested the idea of my still being tied to Taylor. At least we were on the same page.

I didn't consider myself married to that monster any longer, but Pariesna had altered the wards, utilising a piece of me. I swallowed hard, refusing to entertain the possibilities. I didn't want to know what she had, what she used, I'm sure it was something I no longer wanted or needed, and then I choked.

"Bill, gather the lot of them yeah? It seems Granger here has just come to the realisation that old bat implemented the Blood Wards with whatever speck of her blood adorned her horrid son's clothing. Merlin knows nothing is going to hold her back now and if she's going to fuck off to Croatia, Ginny is going to accompany her and it's going to be this gigantic ridiculous mess. I'd much rather my father and Potter got a jump on it." Draco carefully directed me toward the house, but I didn't want to sit in the fucking parlor.

I wanted to go and I wanted to go now. I didn't care about the Aurors accompanying me, or even Draco, for that matter. I had my wand. I had my fury. I had a way in. I kissed Carina's cheek, snuggling into her soft dirty blonde curls and set her in the grasses near Bill and then I was running.

My hair whipped around my face, my skirt snagged on the wayward weeds, but it didn't matter. None of it mattered. I could smell the ocean air and it invigorated me. I am Hermione Granger. I am the brightest witch of the age. I allowed some sniffling piece of shit Squib to tear me down into a shadow of the witch I was and how dare I? I stood beside Harry Potter while he destroyed the darkest wizard to ever exist and I allowed some bloody Muggle to best me? Why was that again? Oh yes, because my heart was shattered into a million little pieces? How fucking pathetic is that? I'm a Gryffindor and I shall not yield.

I could hear the alarmed shouts behind me, and even feel the ground shake as they chased, but that only caused me to run faster. I was nearly there. I could sense the change in the wards as I stepped onto the highest sand dune and I almost laughed. Almost. Instead, I turned toward Draco, taking in his flushed cheeks, watching his sinewy body dig its heels into the damp grasses. Gods, he's a magnificent sight to behold. I smiled broadly, blew him a kiss and Disapparated. Fuck it.

* * *

Harry Potter was absolutely furious. His hands were shaking, multi-colour sparks were bursting from the tip of his wand and his hair, well, nothing was really different there. He would have throw things at the walls, but they weren't his things. No matter how angry he was, he still had manners. His wife on the other hand, had no issue with beating the Malfoy heir about the head while shouting obscenities.

"What do _mean_ she Apparated?! Why did you let her go? Do you know how long it's going to take Boy Wonder over there to gather a team? She's all alone! You're the worst fiancé in the world! I hate you!" Ginny's red hair was swinging as wildly as her arms and Draco Malfoy allowed her to blemish his perfectly pale physique.

Quite frankly, he enjoyed listening to her refer to her husband as Boy Wonder and the Incredible Bumbling Idiot, it made him feel much better about, well, everything. It wasn't as if Harry was paying attention anyway. No, he was silent brooding sort, which never really solved anything. How he managed to save Wizarding kind was anyone's guess, but Draco had more important things to contemplate.

His first plan of action was to carefully slip away while Ginny took a breather from berating him. Draco knew the Manor better than anyone and if wasn't for Bill's quick thinking, he'd already be on his way to Croatia. Ruddy, scarred arse had to latch onto him, tackle him to the ground even, and send them both hurtling toward Malfoy Manor. Draco would have been absolutely furious, if the plan hadn't been so diabolically brilliant.

He noticed Blaise Zabini was eerily silent, simply observing the chaotic scene around him. Draco inclined his head, catching the large wizard's eye before Ginny started in on him again. His father was distracting Harry Potter with talks of contacting the Minister and sending for a team of specialised Aurors, which is exactly the opportunity Draco required.

"Yeah, I've had enough of this shit." Draco announced and grabbed Zabini's forearm before Harry could do anything other than blink.

Ginny growled and dove for his ankles, damned if she wasn't quick on her feet. No wonder she was a fantastic Quidditch player. Draco rolled his eyes, but didn't shake her loose. Instead, he nodded at his father, his trademark smirk painted on his lips and stole away into the night.

It was difficult Apparating long distances and it was quite another taking along two others, but he managed. His magic was drained more than a little and Draco collapsed on the snowy ground, in a convenient expanse of trees. He sucked the oxygen into his lungs, grabbing fistfuls of the icy blades of grass and shook his head to clear his vision.

"Don't touch the tree. You've landed at the edge of the wards. Took you long enough." Hermione crossed her arms, tapping her booted toes in the dusting of snow, quite perturbed with the collection of wizards at her feet.

Ginny tackled the brunette witch, squeezing her so tightly, Hermione was certain a rib had snapped. Blaise wandered in circles, as it appeared he had touched the tree. The Repellant Wards had him wandering down a steep hill before Hermione drug him back to the group by the ear.

"I caught a glimpse of Pansy. It wasn't very long or anything, but I heard the lot of you arrive, so I thought it best to meet you. Couldn't have you wandering off the side of this mountain. I don't much like the idea of a dead fiancée and best mate." She smiled, which terrified them more than a little and the trio backed away from her slightly. "Oh come on then. Did you really expect me to go rushing in like I was Harry? I might be angry but I'm not insane." Hermione laughed, great peals of laughter and Draco grasped her by the shoulders, shaking her a little.

"What's wrong with you? Stop it!" He shook her again before forcing her face into his chest, trembling slightly, though whether it was from the cool air or fear, was anyone's guess.

"Potter's gathering a team." Blaise mumbled, rubbing the back of head. He frowned at the haze surrounding them, wondering how Hermione had managed to breech the wards.

"If you join hands, I can get you through." Hermione waved her palm, and they could see a small thin line of blood slashed from thumb to pinkie before she pressed it against the nearest tree.

The moment they stepped through the wards, they heard the screams. Draco refused to release Hermione's hand and so they raced up the hill together, pausing as they encountered the numerous stone steps. They sighed and climbed them as quickly as they were able, hoping Blaise and Ginny were behind them.

"You traitorous bitch!" Hermione stiffened, refusing to recoil as she heard the gravelly voice of Taylor Johns.

"Leave her alone!" Draco gasped lightly, absolutely positive it was Pansy shouting at the Squib. He moved toward the door, but Hermione held him back, shaking her head.

"Not yet, we don't know what we're walking into." He felt her shudder, her hand clammy in his and he understood. She was afraid. She didn't want to be, but she was and so he waited.

"Give me that wand you bitch!" Taylor growled and it sounded as though furniture was crashing into the stonewalls.

"Why? Your mummy isn't here to wield it for you anyway!" Hermione peered through the frosted glass and spied a disheveled Daphne Greengrass desperately clutching a wand, which wasn't her own.

"Do it, Daphne. You promised!" Pansy shrieked, desperately clutching her burden and Daphne wavered. Hermione gasped, reading the desperation in Pansy's eyes and knew she only had a few moments to act.

"We could get away Pans. He can't stop us." Tears streamed down Daphne's cheeks and she didn't waste time wiping them away. Taylor picked up a wooden chair and hurled it at Daphne's head, his towering form blocking their escape route. Draco, in his haste to protect Hermione, wrenched her hands away from the handle, forcing her behind him.

"I can't…I can't go back. I can never go back. You promised. YOU PROMISED!" Pansy Parkinson fell to her knees with her sobs, and Draco closed his eyes, the depth of her emotions shaking his core.

"Draco…we've got to do something…" Draco nodded curtly, thankful Blaise and Ginny had finally managed to reach the top and easily passed Hermione into Blaise Zabini's waiting arms. He took a deep breath and twisted the handle.

Hermione's mouth dropped open in a silent scream as the green light flew from the tip of Daphne's wand. The tall brunette's lips moved and the words 'I'm sorry' were repeated jumbling together, unrecognizable, until Taylor's fist smashed into her tear stained face. Hermione strained against Blaise and Ginny's hold, kicking out at them, frantically searching for Draco, but she was blinded, blinded by the life ending light, and the echo of words reverberating throughout the castle walls.

"Avada Kedavra."


	17. When the Walls Come Down

**AN: This is it. The last chapter of an emotionally grueling rollercoaster that helped expel the inner demons. There is an epilogue. I don't expect anyone to be particularly happy with the ending, but that's alright. I'll write a ridiculously long AN at the end of the Epilogue to give a bit of explanation as to why it happened the way it did. I'm sure there are mistakes. Don't burn me at the stake.**

**As always...enjoy. *kisses***

* * *

When the Walls Come Down

* * *

The whispers of magic blended in the cold air, rippling through the stonewalls of the Croatian castle, until the walls were shaking with the force. It seemed while Pariesna Parkinson had utilised an ancestral home to securely conceal her Squib son, there were certain magicks entwined. The castle rebelled against the usage of Dark Magic, and since the Killing Curse had been cast, the wards fell slowly with groans of discontent.

I hadn't thought of that, though I should have. I was more concerned with reaching Hermione. My head throbbed from where I had struck the wall and my vision was a bit blurry, but even I could see the fire raging in Hermione's eyes as she took in the scene. She was conflicted, I could see that as well, even as her wand twitched in her fingers.

Blaise, to his credit, didn't attempt to stop her forward motion, knowing a generous hex would be flung in his direction. He dutifully followed her, for which I was grateful, considering I was still out of sorts. Ginny glanced toward me, but then she was running out the door, and I had to assume the cavalry had arrived. I struggled to my feet, clutching the head, only to have my hand come away stained with blood. Fantastic, of course I would be injured when the opportunity arose to beat Taylor Johns Parkinson Riddle to a bloody pulp, and then I remembered Pansy.

There was nothing I could do for Daphne currently, as she was being used as a shield by that pathetic waste of breath, but Pansy…I stumbled toward her and was sickened to see her child struggling within her. I didn't know the best course of action. Did I allow the child to die, much the way its mother had? What would she have wanted? I mean, she wanted to die, she begged to die, but did such thoughts extend to the spawn of Taylor? I had to assume they did, but then I was being shoved out of the way by my mother of all people and Ginny.

I didn't want to see them tear into her, using their wands as sharp instruments in order to rescue the fucking grandchild of Voldemort. My mother pushed me and she said something, but with the ringing in my ears, I couldn't make sense of it. She gestured and I cringed as I looked behind me, not from the sight, but from the pain.

Taylor was slowly squeezing the life out of Daphne and the poor girl couldn't do much more than feebly grasp his thick wrists as they tightened. Hermione stalked forward, but even I could see it would be impossible for her to get a shot off. She's talented and all, don't get me wrong, but she wasn't going to risk Daphne's life.

The sickly squall of an infant drew all our attentions. Hermione faltered, her curls flying as her head whipped in the child's direction. Even I took my eyes off Taylor to investigate Pansy's child. It was a mistake. We all knew we were making a mistake, but we couldn't stop.

"It's a girl." My mother's voice was strangled and full of pity. She didn't need to inform anyone the child wouldn't last the night. As strange as it was, I felt relief knowing Pansy's child was a girl, but then there was the guilt as well. It really was quite the double-edged sword, until I saw my feelings reflected in my love's eyes.

Potter came bursting in, at the last moment, like always. He had a throng of Aurors in tow and it amused me to think he could face down Voldemort, but when it came to a sadistic Squib, he brought enough reinforcements to guard Hogwarts. I didn't say anything, there wasn't a need. It really wasn't the time to taunt him.

"Where is he?" Potter scoured the room and well, it seemed Taylor had run off during our distraction.

"He's got Daphne." I interjected. At least I provided some information, which is more than anyone else was capable of doing.

"Malfoy, you're injured." Potter stated this as if I was completely unaware of the steady flow of blood soaking the back of my shirt. He's still an imbecile, even after all these years. "Zabini, keep Hermione here, bound her if you must. Ginny, tend Malfoy will you? He's loosing entirely too much blood. Aurors! With me!" Gods, he's always so dramatic. I watched him run off and I would have shaken my head, but fuck all that.

"He can't be serious!" Hermione stamped her foot and struggled a bit in Blaise's grip, but she wasn't fooling anyone. She was angry, yes, but I could see the slightest bit of relief and I knew, when it came down to it? Hermione Granger, soon to be Malfoy, never wished to look upon Taylor Johns face again, and really, who could blame her? I certainly didn't, but I didn't really get to dwell on those thoughts. The ground was suddenly rushing toward my face, and then it was blissfully dark.

* * *

A girl, a fucking girl, it shouldn't have surprised me, but I was angry. My mother swore my child would be a son, but figures Pansy would give me a girl. I should have been furious with Daphne, considering she fucking murdered my intended, but mother would have been furious to learn the child was a girl, so I suppose I can forgive her.

Hermione wasn't nearly as attractive as I remembered. She wasn't half bad or anything, but Daphne put that bitch to shame. Daphne was a bit more…docile as well. Hermione was at one time as well, but then she had to go and fight back. Stupid bitch thought she could get the best of me? Sure, I'm not a wizard, but I am a man. She learned, she paid the price and I'd be happy to never see her again.

Of course, now it was a matter of escaping. My cunt of an ex-wife brought all her wizard friends to my mother's family home. Wait, how the fuck did she know where it was? My mother told me over and over her castle was protected by some sort of ancient crazy magic. I believe the word she used was unplottable, which means my mother told someone.

"You can't escape. Do you know who's here? It's just any old wizard…_that_ was Harry Potter and a team of Aurors. They're going to catch you and send you to Azkaban. You'll never see the light of day." Daphne seemed a tad bit smug and I wasn't going to stand for that.

I didn't bother to answer her, instead twisting my fist in her dark hair and dragging her down yet another unfamiliar corridor. Well, it was unfamiliar to her. I had been very careful in my dealings with her, never allowing her to stray far and I knew she hadn't the slightest idea where we were going. I didn't give a fuck about Harry Potter, or anyone else either. They'd never find us down here.

I shoved Daphne into a small bedchamber and she opened her stupid mouth to scream, but a quick slap stopped her. I allowed her to button her blouse, hiding her delectable breasts from my view, but that was alright. I had plans for her the moment we were in the tunnels. Daphne didn't know of the tunnels and that was going to work my advantage. I'm not even sure my mother knew of their existence and considering she's a traitorous whore, that's probably for the best.

Daphne gasped when I threw open the armoire, and I smiled, chuckled even. It wasn't your basic armoire. There was clothing, I made sure of that, but beyond the clothing was a delightful darkness. I picked her up and set her on the floor on the armoire and covered with one of the many fur cloaks. I shrugged into one myself and then I pushed her into the darkness.

She cried, her fingers tracing the ice-cold stone as I stepped in behind her. I spread the cloaks and closed the front of the armoire. I could have lit one of the many lamps on the wall, but I much preferred Daphne when she was afraid. I squeezed one of her ample arse cheeks and she batted my hand away. In response, I maneuvered her toward the top of the stone stairs, knowing she couldn't see them. I carefully closed the back of the armoire, bolting it with an easy smile.

"You worry too much, Daphne. Come on then, stay close, the steps are quite treacherous and I'd hate for you to fall." I wanted her, I wanted her right then, right there against the stone, but I had to be patient. I needed to lull her into a false sense of security, give her promises of freedom, and then persuade her to fuck me.

"Where are we going?" Daphne clung to the wall as I carefully led her down the winding stone steps. I knew her eyes had adjusted to the darkness the moment we touched bottom as she gasped in horror.

"We're leaving the castle, love. I've got to get to the vicar…"

"Vicar? I'm not marrying you!" Daphne was getting hysterical and I was entirely too weary to deal with her shit.

"Of course not, my little vixen. The vicar will be able to scurry me out of the country and then you'll be free." I crooned into her ear and well, I wouldn't be me if I didn't caress her breasts beneath the thick fur coat.

She didn't fight me, which only spurred me on. I think maybe she was in shock. I inched my way up her blouse, slowly fondling her breasts, my hands overflowing with perky softness. I groaned and it echoed against the walls, shocking me out of the moment. As much as I wanted to ravish her, it would have to wait.

"You'll really let me go?" Daphne whispered and I pushed her along until the tunnels forked in different directions. They all led to the same place in the end, but I wanted to be cautious. The tunnel to the right led directly to the tiny town near the bottom of the mountain. The vicar was only a few kilometers from the outskirts of town, but on the off chance my ex-wife and her mates discovered the tunnels, I didn't want to risk it. She always thought I was stupid and would therefore assume I'd take the quickest route to freedom.

The tunnel straight before us was well lit and easy to traverse. It led to the smattering of trees where my mother said the ward began. It made that tunnel absolutely out of the question. What if there were more wizards imply lying in wait? No, that would never do.

The tunnel to the left was dark, dank, winding, and absolutely dangerous. Its final destination suited my needs quite well. I had investigated every inch and was grateful to discover there were bedchambers and other necessities along the way. I'd much rather take my time and enjoy Daphne's wares along the way. Sure, the left tunnel would take us straight to the vicar's basement, but it would take near a month to get there. Perhaps, Daphne would be agreeable, now that would be delicious.

"You'd have to be nice to me. If you're nice to me, well, I see no reason to keep you after I've secured my freedom." Daphne headed straight for the well-lit tunnel and actually pouted when I directed her to the left.

I tossed her over my shoulder, my hand immediately slipping under her skirts. If I was going to carry her, I was definitely going to enjoy her smooth, supple skin along the way. The going was difficult, more difficult than I remembered, but after a few hours, we stumbled upon the first chamber along the way.

I set Daphne on her feet, making sure her body scraped mine along the way. She swallowed hard, but didn't shout at me. It was easy to open the door and after I bolted it securely and slipped the key into my pocket, I lit a sconce. It wasn't long after, I had a fire blazing in the modest fireplace, and Daphne was huddled in front of it, the fur coat spread near the hearth.

I liked to watch her. There was something delightfully alluring about seeing a powerful witch shivering before a fire. I especially like the way her blouse clung to her breasts, accentuating her hardened, protruding nipples. I licked my lips and moved in for the kill. I had to be careful. I still had her wand, but that didn't mean she wasn't capable of escaping and I couldn't have that.

I sat beside her carefully and removed my fur coat as well. My slacks were damp from sliding along tight passages and I had no problem sliding out of those as well. I ignored her wide, frightened eyes and spread them on my coat so the flames could dry them.

"Do you suppose you'll be alright?" I kept my voice low, knowing the timbre had a soothing quality and the tension in Daphne's shoulders ebbed slightly.

"What do you mean?" Gods, that breathy little voice made my cock twitch, but I needed her to submit of her own volition. I couldn't explain why, it was simply another game I wished to play.

"Well, think of it Daphne. You came to me. I didn't kidnap you or even trick you like my mother did with Pansy. Aren't you the slightest bit worried they won't accept you back into their ranks? Do you wonder if they're silently judging you?" I kept my eyes on the flames, though my peripheral vision caught sight of her mouth opening and closing. She was shaking her head, her lip moving silently and then she was crying.

"Oh gods, what am I going to do?" It was easy to crawl toward her and pull her into my arms. She didn't fight me and I rubbed her back, holding her close.

I dragged her into my lap and I'm sure she could feel my cock twitching against her thigh, but she was completely overcome. It was child's play to slide her tattered maroon blouse down her arms and then her freed breasts were against my chest. Daphne's sobs had slowed to quiet little whimpers and she wasn't even aware of how far I had pushed her skirt up her thighs.

"I'm sorry, really I am." I wasn't sorry in the least, but Daphne was such a mess, she wouldn't be able to suss out the truth anyway. "I'm sure it'll all be fine. Hell, I could rough you up a bit before I set you free. I'm sure they'd believe you then." Daphne blinked hard, finally looking up at me.

She hadn't realised I'd reclined her upon the fur coats either. I laid beside her, my head propped on my left hand, and I was blatantly ogling every inch of exposed skin. I swear her breasts were literally calling me, begging for attention and I couldn't resist. I didn't want to resist. I lifted my right hand and placed it on her abdomen, stroking in small upward motions until my fingertips were grazing the underside of her breast.

"Taylor, please don't." Daphne whimpered, but she didn't try to push me away, or any of that nonsense, so I ignored her. I cupped her breast, glossing over a puckered pink peak, sighing heavily as it hardened further.

"I'm just being nice Daphne. I thought you liked it when I was nice. Don't you want to be nice to me? After all, we're going to be done here for quite some times…just you…" I bent down and licked that teasing nipple, "and me. I promised I'd release you if you were nice." I sucked lightly, resisting the urge to bite her and cause pain.

"What do you mean by…nice?" I gave her other breast the same attention and Daphne kept picking up her hands as if she was going to push me away, but then they'd flop back to the furs, almost in defeat.

"I think participation could be nice." I suckled the side of her throat, kneading a breast with my palm and she choked on her breath, realisation finally rearing its ugly head.

I have to admit it was lovely not to force her. It was completely indescribable to be able to remove her skirt, slide her knickers down her thighs, and see her laid bare before the fire without threats of violence. I could get used to this. I yanked my shirt over my head, but left my boxers in place. I wanted to lull her into false sense of security and it was working.

"What do you want me to do exactly?" Daphne's legs were clamped tightly together and that would never do. I took her wrists and gently placed her hands over her head, pressing them into the furs. My ridiculous light brown hair flopped into my eyes and it annoyed me, if only because it obstructed my view.

"Why don't we start nice and easy? How about you open those legs for me, I'd like to have a look." Daphne swallowed hard and stared at the ceiling before slowly parting her thighs. "That's it darling, a little more, yes, just like that." I loved to taste her, but getting her to submit wasn't worth the trouble. She'd shriek and kick out until I was forced to bind and gag her. Perhaps she wasn't a fan of having a man lap between her legs and preferred the ministrations of a woman. There was no way to tell and I wasn't interested in the answer. "Let's play a game. I do believe you'll enjoy it, if you let yourself."

Daphne was conflicted, it was easy to see, but I could be patient. I wasn't well known for my patience or anything, but if I really tried, it was possible. While I gave her a few moments to consider my proposal, I made my move. Well, I'd already started, but my next actions were quite blatant. I licked the insides of her thighs, working my way upward, and I even pressed a few closed mouth kisses into her flesh.

"Do you think they'll be angry with me?" Daphne sniffed lightly and I glanced up to see her staring at the shadows dancing across the ceiling. "Do you think they'll blame me? Oh gods, I killed Pansy! They're going to send me to Azkaban!" Shit, she really was in quite a state now and it was my fault, but she wasn't wrong. I grew up listening to horror stories of the Wizarding World and miscarriages of justice. I was sure if they had an opportunity to make an example of Daphne Greengrass, they would take it. They needed to punish someone for the travesties that have been committed and well, why not her?

"You don't have to go, Daph. I assumed you'd want to go home, but I'd quite like the company, if I'm being honest. I've plenty of money, you'd never want for anything. We could go anywhere. I've always been insanely curious as far as North America is concerned. There's a place called Canada and in certain provinces, they speak French. We could blend in quite well there. Of course, if you'd rather, I can take us to the end of the tunnels and release you." I was sounding quite the sop, but Daphne didn't seem to notice, which was for the best.

"I wouldn't be a prisoner if I stayed with you." Daphne squirmed slightly as I inhaled the sweet nectar glistening between her thighs.

"Absolutely not love," I dipped my tongue between her folds, sampling her wares, resisting the urge to feed my voracious appetite, and pulled away slightly. "You'd be my wife."

* * *

Hermione Granger would normally have been barking orders and taking charge, but she left such things to Harry Potter these days. The fight had truly gone out of her years ago, and while there had been the barest hint of ire, Draco Malfoy's injury had quickly doused the flames. She listened the shouts of the Aurors and the sounds of spelling ricocheting off the walls while she cradled the blond wizard's head in her lap.

Narcissa and Ginny were busy caring for the preemie child and Hermione didn't blame them nor did she wish to interrupt them. She'd managed to seal Draco's head wound with a simple Healing Spell, but there wasn't anything more she could do for him until she had the proper Potions. She ran her fingers through his fine platinum locks, whispering to herself.

"Granger, I've been assigned to take you lot to St. Mungos. There isn't a need for any of you to remain here and they're better equipped to deal with…" Blaise gestured toward the gasping infant, before quickly staring at the ground. They were all uncomfortable with the situation and wished nothing more than to be home. Therefore, when Blaise, under the orders of Harry Potter, offered them a way home, even Ginny sighed with relief.

"Alert the staff we'll be escorting a premature infant." Narcissa wrapped the tiny girl in a thick flannel blanket, cradling the baby to her chest.

"DAMMIT!" Harry stalked back into the kitchen absolutely furious. He kicked over the few remaining wooden chairs and would have upended the table if Hermione hadn't been seated on the wood with Draco's head in her lap.

He couldn't fathom the idea of Taylor Johns escaping. His team of Aurors hadn't been able to find a trace of the bastard Squib and Harry was more than ready for a bit of bloodshed. He didn't like to admit to it, but there were moments when he quite enjoyed hexing a bloke or two. It wasn't as if they didn't deserve it and Taylor Johns was quite the son of a bitch. Harry had been looking forward to at least a good punch or even a kick, but instead there was nothing.

Harry and the first team had discovered Pariensa Parkinson in her bedchamber. He was prepared to be satisfied with bringing her before the Wizengamot, but the saucy, calculating witch had downed enough Draught of Living Death, to sleep until the next century, or until her body gave out. He supposed, if it came down to it, he could haul Ramses Parkinson before the Ministry. The wizard was culpable in a way and that would have to suffice, though how he was going to inform Hermione and Draco was another matter.

"Harry, it doesn't matter anymore. Let it go." Hermione leaned down and kissed Draco's forehead while Blaise arranged for the Floo Network to be opened for their transport.

"What do you mean it doesn't matter? Are you bloody mad? Of course, it matters! Taylor Johns was never really a Parkinson, he was always fucking Tom Riddle's son! He's abused you, Pansy, Pixie, and even Daphne and he's gone. One of the Junior Aurors stumbled across some tunnels, but they'll take weeks to suss out carefully. He'll be long gone by then!" Harry slammed his fist onto the wooden table, jarring Draco's stiff body, which only brought him Hermione's ire.

"Get away from him, Harry. I'm not above hexing you, even if you are Harry Potter." Hermione sighed, attempting to remain calm and Harry had enough sense to retreat. "Tell me then, how many tunnels are there? Which are well lit? Which are easy to traverse? If I had to guess, I'd say at least one of the tunnels leads to that little village at the base of the mountain. I'd suggest sending a team to investigate. I'm sure you can find a book on the history of this castle and you might be surprised what you could learn from it. I know you enjoy a good adventure, perhaps you could even take Ron with you. It's been awhile since you two have gotten into trouble. It might be good for you." Hermione flashed Harry a small smile and was pleasantly surprised to see his mouth gaping open in shock. She always had enjoyed surprising him and it seemed as much as things had changed, they remained the same.

"Blimey Hermione, I'd completely forgotten about Ron.."

"Yes well, haven't we all? It looks as though we're all grown up now."

"It's great to have you back, Hermione." Harry smiled broadly and quickly launched into a monologue, detailing the scant information he actually had concerning the tunnels.

As for Draco Malfoy, he listened with half an ear, seguing between the darkness and the soft voice of his love. She was alive, she was here, she was his, that's all he needed really. He didn't need to pummel Taylor until he begged for death. From Draco's deductions, he'd already won that fight and that would have to be enough. She would make it enough. Hermione and Carina was all he needed really and it took him much longer than necessary to realise it.

"Mr. Potter." Lucius Malfoy stepped into the drafty kitchen, his aristocratic features covered in what looked like soot. He still managed to stand proud and regal, but even Hermione snorted when Lucius rubbed his nose, leaving a definitive fingerprint on the bridge.

"What is it Lucius? I thought you were leading the second team?" Harry rolled his eyes in quite the dramatic fashion, quite enjoying his conversation with the brightest witch of the age.

"Oh terribly sorry to interrupt your little tea party, Mr. Potter. I simply thought you'd appreciate the footprints that were discovered in the third tunnel. The first team is already through their tunnel and convening on the quaint little village. I suspect…"

"He wouldn't have used the first tunnel." Hermione interrupted, tapping her forefinger on her cheek in quiet contemplation. "He'd know we would search that one first as it's a direct shot to the mountain base. Taylor detests the dark and well, anything filthy as well, therefore it is only logical to deduce he'd take the most treacherous tunnel, in order to throw us off his scent."

"Yes, thank you for that, Ms. Granger, as I was saying…" Lucius paused, waiting for another interruption, smirking slightly as Hermione waved him on, "It seems Ms. Greengrass etched into the stone walls along the passage. It is nothing more than her initials, sporadically carved along the way, but it's something. I was simply coming here to inform you I've delegated the second team to the tunnel." Lucius crossed his arms, quite pleased with himself, even as Harry's eyes narrowed with contemplation.

"Why not the third team?" Harry pushed away from the table, an air of authority about him, but Lucius Malfoy's slow smile intimidated him just a bit.

"We all know the third team is filled with imbeciles, Potter. You do wish to catch Taylor Johns, do you not?" Without another word, Lucius Malfoy spun on his heel, his robes billowing out behind him.

"He's not wrong…" Hermione sniffed, suddenly quite interested in the barrage of Mediwitches on scene. She held her breath as they carried the squalling infant toward the Floo with hushed whispers and impatiently waited for them to give Draco aid.

Hermione didn't have to wait long, though Harry was of the opinion, it was due to her growls and glowering than a pressing need to attend a head wound. Harry watched the way his mate hovered over Draco Malfoy and shook his head. There were still moments he couldn't quite believe things had turned out the way they had. He never would have imagined Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy at the end of the day, but the more he contemplated such things, the more he came to the realisation they were quite suited to each other. It seemed the lion had tamed the serpent, or perhaps the serpent had tamed the lion, whatever it was, Harry knew he didn't have to worry about Hermione any longer, that was Draco Malfoy's job now.

* * *

I could hear their footfalls in the tunnel and it was making me nervous. I thought I had more time. I thought I could take a respite here and it would take them days, maybe even weeks to discover my route. I had underestimated them and that made me angry. I couldn't afford to be angry. When I was angry I made rash decisions and they always seemed to end badly. I couldn't risk it now. I couldn't be captured by some overzealous wizards. I had abused one of their witches, a quite popular one at that. I was a walking dead man. No, my best recourse was to disappear. It was simply a matter of how.

"I think your mother is dead." I heard Daphne's soft-spoken words, but I pretended I hadn't. The last thing I needed was to think of my mother. It was her fault I was in his mess as it was. She pushed me and pushed me with stories of my father and the great wizard he was. It seemed she had left out a few very important facts. I mean, my father might have been a great wizard, but a few children brought him down really. I don't even know what to think anymore.

"Why do you think that?" I hastily dressed, lamenting the fact I couldn't give Daphne another go. She was absolutely superb. I never knew a woman could harbour that much passion. Hell, my cock twitched just with the memory of being inside her. I had to sit down, otherwise I was going to ravish her and damn the consequences.

"I felt the wards fall. If you'd give me my wand, I could get us out of here." Oh, that tricky little bitch. I knew exactly what she was doing. She was going to leave me here, after everything I'd done for her. I offered her the fucking world and she…whoa. "I said us." Daphne had sauntered over with that delicious wiggle in her hips and released my straining cock from my damp slacks. Without the slightest bit of preamble, she mounted me, hissing as she slid down my shaft. Well, I couldn't bloody argue with that now could I?

"I want you to write a letter first." I sucked her nipples hard, delighting in the way she clenched around me. Even I had to admit, my mother had done a stupendous job with that little virgin spell. Every time was like the first time and it was glorious.

Daphne nodded, angling her hips as she clutched my shoulders. She kept making those little panting whimpers that drove me toward the edge. It was only a matter of time before she was throbbing and I was spilling my seed. I thrust upwards a few times, grunting as she sagged against me. She'd never come to me before. I always had to seek her out, that's the way it had always been with women. I quite enjoyed the difference and knew I'd spend many a night buried within her. Perhaps we'd have a few children as well. I'd have to break her wand the moment we got to safety. I mean, it would be stupid to even chance her escape. No, Daphne Greengrass was mine for the taking…forever.

* * *

Lucius Abraxas Malfoy was prepared to spend the rest of his days in Azkaban if it meant apprehending Taylor Johns. The repulsive Squib had caused enough damage. Lucius purposely recalled every heinous act in order to fuel his building fury. His breaths came in sharp puffs as he ambled down the broken stone steps, knowing he was closing in on the poor excuse for a man.

"Malfoy, you've got to…slow down." One of the many Aurors accompanying Lucius, clutched his side, gasping heavily, but the blond wizard only sneered in distaste.

"Stay behind then, you sniveling weak fools. I'm not about to let him escape. Do you have any idea what he's done?" Lucius grappled for the wizard's name, but came up empty. His fingers twitched, his feet were begging for a reprieve, but his mind was unable to comply. "Taylor Johns is a direct descendant of Voldemort. He's murdered my only daughter. He's abused the witches he knew as siblings. He abused Hermione Granger, I'm sure you've heard of her. He killed her only son and almost ended her in the process. She's now engaged to my only son, Draco Malfoy. I am a Malfoy as my father before me and I shall not yield." Lucius dug his fingers into the mud between the stones and pushed forward, disregarding the Aurors he'd left behind.

He slid on the moist ground, practically tripping in the darkness, his wand wavering in his fingertips as it gave off a soft glow. Lucius could have sworn he spied a door handle and he shook his head, to clear his vision. His fingertips danced along the stone, the moss clinging to his palm as the drips of water ran between his fingers and there it was. A rusted ring, lodged into the wall and suddenly he could barely breathe.

It had been hours and hours since his search began. There was no way to know if Taylor and his conquest were ensconced in the room beyond the brass handle, but he had to try. Lucius grit his teeth, various hexes, jinxes, and even Unforgivables, soundlessly passing through his lips in anticipation. He thrust open the door, smashing into the splintered wood with his shoulder, much like a Muggle would do and smashed to his knees when it crumpled.

"Lumos!" Lucius bellowed, listening to his hoarse voice echo in the small chamber, as he scrambled to his feet. He snarled, wielding his wand, desperately searching every nook and cranny, only to find absolutely nothing.

He kicked over the chamber pot in the corner, thankful it was empty. Lucius growled at the Aurors stumbling into the space and they quickly vacated with muttered words of apology. Their apologies meant nothing to him. The search was futile. He could feel the remnants of magic in the air and knew they were gone.

The sound began small, simmering in his chest until the first sounds passed his thin, chapped lips. It grew to a low growl, frightening the Aurors, until finally it was a great bellow, rippling his vocal chords until the sound was choked. Finally, Lucius Malfoy succumbed to the sobs, not of sadness, not of desperation, of defeat. He sunk to his knees, crawling toward the glowing embers of the hearth. His filthy palms grazed a piece of parchment, hidden beneath a fur coat of all things. Lucius struggled with it, his grubby fingers trembling in the low light, until finally he managed to open it.

_I'm not sorry, for any of it. I would do it all again. I would only wish the end result would be more palatable. I won't come for her again. She's not worth the trouble. I suppose I'll see you again some day. I look forward to it. Do tell her to keep an eye out yeah? One can never be too careful these days. Au Revoir. – T Riddle. _

Lucius crumpled the parchment in a tight fist, prepared to cast it into the flames, despite the warning of the Aurors behind him. One of them even deigned touched the sleeve of his robe. The poor bloke was immediately cast into the wall, without another glance. He studied the words over and over, searching for some hidden meaning, for a clue even to their whereabouts, but there was nothing, until he inspected the other side. Lucius gasped lightly, accidentally tearing the corner and closed his eyes.

It was over. There was nothing more he could do, and perhaps that was the worst damnation of all. Lucius allowed the crumpled, torn bit of parchment fall from his fingers and left the chamber without a backward glance. He had a little girl to see, with golden blonde curls and her mother's eyes.

_I killed Pansy. She begged me. I couldn't refuse her, not after everything. This is my burden now. I'll make him forget Granger. I'll keep her safe. Tell them I died. Tell them anything other than the truth. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Forgive me. - DG_

-Fin


	18. Almost Happy

Almost Happy

* * *

I'd love to tell you Taylor had been captured and made to suffer. I'd love to tell you Daphne had escaped his clutches and managed to have some sort of life. I'd love to tell you a lot of things really, but I wouldn't want to lie. I know you're probably angry about it, and I used to be. I used to be furious and terrified all wrapped up at once, but no longer.

I allowed him to rule my life for entirely too long. I still think of him sometimes, but most of it has faded away. I don't expect it all will. No, it will cling, reminding me of how far I've come. I'm not quite who I was once was, but that's all right too. I'm better. It was a long hard road and I'm proud of myself.

Draco is different, but not in a bad way, and I often find him staring off into the distance. I don't ask him what he's thinking and I think perhaps I'm afraid of the answer. We don't speak of Taylor. We don't speak of Leo, but it hovers over us. A dark, ominous sort of cloud, but we try.

The thing of it is, we're happy now, I'm happy now. It's not perfect, but nothing ever is. We argue, over petty things really, but that doesn't mean we don't love each other. Gods, I couldn't imagine loving anyone as much as I love him and he says much the same.

We have children, girls to Lucius Malfoy's chagrin, and for a while we attempted to be content with the idea of never having a son. I mean, I had a son, we had a son, but it wasn't the same as watching our girls frolic about the Manor grounds, terrorizing their grandfather's peacocks.

I tried to explain it to Virginia once. Yes, that's right, we named our youngest daughter Virginia. I was determined to name a child after Ginny, but she said no child should be saddled with the name Ginevra and Draco agreed. She looks like me. She's the only child of the four I've birthed that looks like me, but that's alright.

I always told my Draco…not a single child deserved to be saddled with my hair, and my poor daughter Ginny would agree. She asked me once about the small wooden box Draco and I keep under our bed. I told her the story of her older brother Leo, who never had the opportunity to draw breath. Of course, I omitted the violence, but it was sad just the same. She listened carefully, pushing her bushy light brown hair out of her face, and sighed.

"Do you love us less cuz we're not boys?" Her four year old little voice asked, with the sweetest little pout and I shook my head.

"No darling. We're your parents and we're absolutely over the moon you're our daughter. We love you, Carina and Cassie. I wouldn't trade you for the world." I hugged her tightly, kissed her forehead, and set her on her feet.

"I'd like to have a brother." Ginny smiled and scampered off with her feet thumping along the hardwood.

"I'd like to give her one." Draco, it seemed was eavesdropping as he was apt to do, and flounced beside me on our ridiculously comfortable sofa.

"What if we give her another sister? I don't think she'd enjoy that." I sunk into his side and he sighed, rubbing my back as he always did. He always could sense my anxiety and sought to ease it.

"Then I suppose I'll forever be surrounded by hormonal yet gorgeous women. There are worse things in life." He wasn't wrong, though I knew seeing Harry run about with James and Albus was a source of contention for him, he never said a word.

"If we have another child, I want to name…"

"No."

"Draco…"

"No. I've chosen a name for our imaginary son and I shan't be swayed. You named our first two children without me. Yes, you kept me in mind and I'm forever grateful. I wouldn't trade our daughters for all the galleons in the world, but knowing you as I do? Your heart will never be healed until we're holding our son in our arms. I don't fault you for it, as I suspect you don't fault my envy of Harry fucking Potter, of all blokes. I mean hell, even Blaise managed to settle down and his son is a hellion. I want that and there's nothing wrong with admitting it." He flicked his wand, warding it against inquisitive children, and preceded to ravish me, and well, I can't really argue with that now can I?

I had memorized every sinew of his face, every line carved into his body, every muscle contracting beneath my fingertips. We moved together and no words needed to be spoken. After so many years of yearning and learning, we were finally the composers of our own symphony and it was glorious.

Of course, life has a way of doing exactly as it pleases and after our youngest daughter turned five, we discovered we were expecting once more. Draco hovered as he always did and it was strange to see Lucius bringing me cups of tea with a fondness I didn't know he was capable of possessing. Narcissa would brush my hair, humming lightly and it reminded me of my own parents.

Oh yes, my parents. They still didn't understand me, but it no longer bothered me. They were fairly content with their lives and it suited me just fine.

"Pregnant again? Christ Hermione, how many children are you planning on having anyway? Don't you think you've enough?" My mother, ever so practical, had never wanted more than one child. Honestly, I found it hard to believe she'd wanted me, but she loved me in her own way.

"We're having a boy." I found it best to always get straight to the point when speaking to my mother. She never was the sort to have much patience for idle chatter.

"That's…that's wonderful." My mother…cried. I heard her calling my father and he thought something was amiss, but after the news was shared with him, he was crying as well.

I was nervous, but in a good way, I suppose, and when Scorpius Malfoy made his way into the world, our hearts were finally full. His silvery eyes stared up at me and I wondered if he and Leo would have favoured each other. When I handed Draco his son, I knew the same thought crossed his mind and our smiles were nothing short of bittersweet.

I still see Harry sometimes, Ron too for that matter. It isn't the same as it once was and I know they miss it. I don't, but I know they do. Ginny and I are closer than we've ever been. I don't know how I ever managed without her. She's not the same angry Weasley she was when we were children. She's transformed into a beautiful woman, with the patience of a saint.

There are moments, after we've set the children on our husbands and retreated to the safety of the garden, we'd reminisce. Our husbands wouldn't understand why we'd bother remembering Pansy. She wasn't particularly nice to us, or anything, but at one time, she had been important to Draco…and even to Blaise. We often wondered how our lives would be different if her daughter had survived.

The poor girl put up a valiant fight, but she was so small. She was so sickly. She was so premature and there are certain things even magic can't cure. I was by her side when she passed, and somehow it was fitting. Strangely, Pansy's daughter encompassed what my life would have become if I had stayed with Taylor.

We buried them on the Manor grounds. Draco and Blaise were so quiet, withdrawn even. I was afraid I was going to lose him. I was afraid he was going to relapse and we'd be back where we started, but Carina kept the life in his eyes. Gods, how he adores her, and it only makes me love him more.

I know she holds a special place in his heart, but he's never loved our other girls less. He really is an amazing father. I was worried, I mean considering my past with Taylor, it was a given I was going to be quite the worrier. Draco never grew angry with me. He allowed me to hover and fret as I needed, until my anxiety was appeased. He'd simply smile and kiss my forehead. He soothed the raging river of my angst and I was glad.

"Do you ever think of Pixie?" Ginny asked me once and I didn't know how to respond.

"I…no, I really don't." It was honest. Pixie Parkinson Malfoy meant nothing to me. I mean, I was sorry for the abuse she had suffered at the hands of Taylor and even her mother, but other than that, no. I vaguely recalled overhearing a conversation concerning her. "She means nothing to me. In fact, I heard she's been remanded to St. Mungo's."

"Oh yes. She's gone more than a little mad." Ginny shrugged and that was the last we spoke of it.

Ramses on the other hand, well, the Ministry was never able to prove it, but I always had a sneaking suspicion Lucius paid him a visit. The manner in which he was…dismembered, was so personal, so violent. When the Daily Prophet reported the news of Ramses Parkinson's demise, Lucius merely mumbled a snarky 'interesting' and flipped the page. I didn't blame him. I don't think anyone could blame him. He needed closure just as much as the rest of us. I'm glad he found a bit of peace in the end. Someone ought to.

* * *

I'll never tell her. She wouldn't hate me or even be angry, but that's not the point. She would regress, not enough to warrant intervention or anything, but she would. She'd wake up screaming in the night again, and I can't have that.

I appreciated the fact Hermione never left my side. I really didn't think my injury was that severe, but the convalescence period was longer than I would have liked. Sometimes my memory is a bit shoddy and I have the occasional aches, but she soothes everything.

I know, it's terribly soppy isn't it? I never imagined my ice-cold heart thawing for her, but it did. Well, and for my daughter. Carina's irrevocable love brought me through the dark days, just as the sound of my heartbeat brought Hermione through her dark moments. We've all got a bit of dark in us, don't you know?

I almost told her once, but I could hear my father's judgemental voice in my head. 'What good will it do?'…and he was right. It didn't serve any purpose, other than I disliked keeping things from her.

"Do you ever think about him?" Her voice was so soft and filled with so much sadness, it literally pained me. I kissed her bare shoulder, nestling into her back and sighed.

I loved the way she fit in my arms. She's always so soft and smooth. I wanted to lose myself in her, but what else was new? I always wanted to lose myself in her.

I slipped my hand beneath the awful cotton sheets she had insisted on purchasing and stroked her hip. It was easy to gently kiss her shoulder, her neck, and even her ear, while dragging her leg across mine. I was sure she knew I was attempting to distract her, but she didn't protest.

Hermione, my little Granger sighed, her breasts full and stretching the limits of her ridiculous little sleep shirt. It was child's play to slip her knickers down her supple thighs and she moaned so lightly. I loved the way her body changed while she carried my children. She hadn't informed me yet and I wasn't sure she was even aware, but I knew. Her breasts were fuller and Merlin, she was so sensitive everywhere, it's a wonder we ever got out of bed.

I slipped my arm beneath her head, watching the expressions on her face. I teased her, I always did love to tease her. I toyed with her breasts, just until she was biting her lip and then I'd move away to stroke her bare stomach. My fingers danced along her inner thighs, brushing against her sex, just to see her back arch and her breaths become raspy.

"Bastard." Granger groaned, forcing my hand between her legs. I always did love it when she got bossy in bed. She had always been so timid, but things had changed. We had changed. "Oh yes, right there, no no no, don't…stop. Merlin." I knew exactly what she liked and it was a simple matter to stroke, prod, and tease her delicious little bits until she was shuddering.

"Come here." Begrudgingly my little vixen rolled toward me, easily straddling my hips. She wrenched her strappy little shirt off, dropping it to the floor and braced her hands on my chest. The little twinkle in her eye made my heart thump erratically, the way it always did, but then, I was distracted by her breasts.

"You're staring again." It was heaven feeling her slide onto my cock, twisting her hips in delightful little circles. I let her work her magic, but it wasn't long before I was sitting up, my arms snaking around her waist, simply to capture one of those luscious peaks between my teeth.

Later, while I was still partially collapsed on top of her, she smacked my arse. I yelped, immediately sliding off her, with the barest hint of a glower. I knew she still wanted an answer and it was time.

"Sometimes, I suppose, but not in the way you think. It's more a matter of…if I hadn't been such a cowardly broken little fool, would we ever know what he was truly capable of doing? Would Pansy still be alive? Would she have married Roger? Would Daphne still be dallying with Pixie? Things of that nature." Hermione touched my cheek, brushing her thumb across my lips and nodded slowly, carefully.

"I still think about him. Not on purpose, but there are moments when he just slips in…mostly when I'm sleeping…"

"I know, love." I studied the roundness of cheeks, the curve of her jaw while her lips moved and resisted the urge to kiss her.

"It's just…I mean…sometimes…what are you doing?" I smiled against her shoulder, my palm flattened against the slight rounding of her abdomen.

"I'm distracting my wife from her troubles, by turning the conversation to a most pressing question. I'm curious, love. When were you planning on telling me?" I thumped fingers just below her navel and she bloody smacked me.

"You've ruined it! I had a plan and you had to and…ugh!" I let her leave me there in our bed, taking all the fucking sheets with her no less and simply smiled. I hoped for a boy. I always hoped for a boy, but visions of curly haired blonde daughters never bothered me in the least. Carina, Cassiopeia, and Virginia were the lights of my life.

I saw him once. It was an accident. Blaise had dragged me on some sort of world tour of sorts. I hadn't wanted to go, but Granger insisted. She said it would be good for me and that our relationship would be healthier if we took a bit of a break. I'm perfectly fluent in Granger. It was code. 'Go away or I'll hex off your bollocks.' Therefore, I went.

It wasn't life changing or enlightening or anything of that sort, but it did allow Blaise to discover the joys of Canadian witches. While he was off shagging himself silly, I wandered. I couldn't even tell you where I was, but it was bloody cold. I didn't much like Canada. Well, at least the provinces we visited. I don't know why Blaise insisted winter was the best time for a visit, but I disagreed.

I was warming myself in some café or another on a rather busy street when I saw him. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. Taylor Johns. My heart clenched and I couldn't breathe.

"Riddle?" The barista called out and I almost dropped my paper cup of coffee. I pulled my woolen hat from my pocket and yanked it over my head. I didn't want him to see me.

Daphne Greengrass forced herself to the counter and when she turned, it was obvious she was very pregnant. I could have sworn she paused as her eyes glided over me, but then Taylor was at her elbow, kissing her cheek. It all looked very normal and pleasant, which only made the bile catch in my throat.

"Are you alright my love? You don't look well." I gagged, hiding the sound behind my hand. There was actual concern in his words and I hated him.

I hated him for every moment he'd ever spent with _my_ love. I hated every horrid word he'd ever spoken, ever inferred. I hated every physical altercation, every bruise, every cringe, every gasp he'd ever caused. I hated the ghost of him still present in her eyes.

I blinked, though I suppose it was longer than that, and they were gone. I rushed out into the blustery cold and Taylor was aiding Daphne into a black vehicle. I stood on the walk until they were out of sight.

I've never told a soul. I mean, what could I say really? Oh by the way, while Blaise was off with a witch I saw the bane of my wife's existence with Daphne. Oh yeah, it was strange, but no I didn't do anything. I let him go. What do you mean why? I don't know really. Perhaps because she asked me not to kill him, because she was trying so hard to let that piece of her life go. If I had done anything, it simply would have brought everything rearing back to the surface and fuck, even I didn't want that. I didn't want Taylor haunting her dreams or even mine.

The only thing that haunts my dreams now, is Leo. It still manages to hurt my heart, even after all these years. I can't help but to wonder what he would have looked like. I know exactly how old he would be and I know Hermione does too. A mother doesn't forget something as important as that, but then again…neither does a father.

Therefore, I keep my secret, for her sake. My only goal in life is to make things 'enough'. I want our life to be enough. I want our children to be enough. I want to be enough and I'd move heaven and earth to make it so.

* * *

"Malfoy! Your son is in the tree again!" I had been shouting for ages, I knew he was ignoring me.

"My son? Why is it Scorpius is only my son when he's naughty?" He sauntered into the kitchen wearing nothing more than a towel, slung low on his hips, bastard.

"He's obviously channeling his Malfoy genes when he's naughty!" I wasn't going to let him draw me in. I was going to be strong. I didn't have time to shag him against the counter. Harry, Ginny and the children were set to arrive momentarily. It didn't stop me from licking my lips, and of course, he noticed.

"We haven't the time my saucy little vixen." I loved his smirk just as much as I hated it, and now wasn't any different. He kissed me, hard, unrelenting and there I was, melting in his arms, with our son in a bloody tree.

"Stop it." I pushed him away, but I didn't really mean it and he damn well knew it. "Go get our son out of the tree, would you? He's only three. However did he manage?" I glanced out the window again and staring me straight in the face was the answer.

"Carina." We spoke in unison, laughing lightly. That child was Slytherin through and through. It wasn't any surprise when she got Sorted and Draco was almost as pleased as his father.

My throat closed when I thought of Cassie stepping onto the Hogwarts Express for the first time. It was only a few weeks away. I felt as though I was losing them. I couldn't protect them there. I couldn't watch over them. I was helpless and I didn't like the way it felt. It reminded me of _then_ and I couldn't breathe.

"Carina's got him. She'll look after them, love. I know you're worrying. The idea of having two less children in the house doesn't sit well with me either. If you like, we could always refill it. Half the fun would be in trying." I loved when he'd sneak up behind me and rest his chin on my shoulder, his arms loosely hanging around my waist.

"Scorpius asked for a brother." I dropped the tea towel in the sink basin and watched the girls chase their brother about the garden.

"Please don't practice in the kitchen. Your family eats here." I laughed because only Ginny would be completely nonplussed upon seeing Draco in nothing more than a damp towel.

"Spoil all our fun, won't you then?" Draco chuckled and I laughed. I really laughed. I laughed until there were tears streaming down my face and it wasn't even that funny. It felt good. It felt really, really good and I knew then, I'd always be all right.

I would be lying if I said I didn't occasionally look over my shoulder, wondering if he was skulking about in the night. I would be lying if I said I didn't occasionally wonder if he would come bursting through the door to our little yellow house in the country to steal me away. I would be lying if I said I didn't wake in the middle of the night every so often covered in a light sheen of sweat, but I didn't like to lie.

It was in those moments, the ones that stole my breath away, the ones that made the panic roar in my ears, when the love of my life would take me in his arms. He'd hold me tight, crooning soothing words in my ear, rubbing my back as he curled around me.

"I love you." He'd whisper, kissing my brow.

"I know."

And finally…it was enough.

* * *

**AN:**

There are those who will never understand why I left the story the way I did.  
I'm not asking them to.  
The character of Taylor Johns Parkinson Riddle was modeled after my first husband - minus all the murder.  
I needed to exaggerate him grandly in order to even write this particular story.  
I'm sure some will wonder which parts are fact and which are fiction and it's easy enough to deduce.  
Remove the magic. Remove the murders.  
Retain the explicit beating...and you've got your answer.  
It was therapeutic in it's own way and after all the years that have passed, it's exactly what I needed.

Why didn't Taylor get caught...or killed?  
Because...I had always modeled this story after...life.  
Life isn't always wrapped up in a pretty bow. It doesn't always give us exactly what we want.

As I lay this story to rest...and the clinging vestiges of reality, I thank you for taking this difficult journey with me.

As always...thanks for reading. *kisses*


End file.
